
I IN-NeSTINGTIM€ • 



• BY- 'OLIV6- I HpRNe -MILLER - 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



IN NESTING TIME 



BY 



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OLIVE THORNE MILLER 



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BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 

(Cfe fttoergi&e #re£& (£amliri&0? 

1888 



Copyright, 1888, 
BY H. M. MILLER. 

All rights reserved. 






The Riverside Press, Cambridge : 
Electrotyped and Printed by H. 0. Houghton & Co. 



" Very few people have the least idea what wild creatures are 
like. Their notion generally is to shoot them, and then pick them 
up for examination ; which is the same thing as if some being of 
superior race, seeing children at play, were to shoot a few at long 
range, and then turn them over and describe them and consider 
himself learned in their structure, habits, and appearance" — 
Jean Lngelow. 



INTRODUCTORY. 



The sketches of bird manners and customs 
in this little collection are the record of careful 
observation, and scrupulously true in every par- 
ticular. The facts may not all be new to Science, 
but since they are genuine studies from life, and 
each bird whose acquaintance I make is as truly 
a discovery to me as if he were totally unknown 
to the world, I venture to hope that lovers of 
birds may find in these pages real, live, individu- 
als in feathers, honestly " brothers of ours." 

OLIVE THORNE MILLER. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

I. Baby Birds 1 

Purple Crow Blackbird. Quiscalus quiscula. 
Redwing Blackbird. Agelceus Phoeniceus. 
Yellow-Throated Warbler. Dendroeca dominica. 
Baltimore Oriole. Icterus galbula. 
White-Bellied Nuthatch. Sitta Carolinensis. 
American Robin. Merula migratoria. 
Phcebe. Sayornis phoebe. 
II. Bird-Study in a Southern State . . .19 
Great White Heron. Ardea occidentalis. 
Bald Eagle. Halicetus leucocephalus. 
Wilson's Tern. Sterna hirundo. 
Ring Plover. sEgialitis hiaticula. 

III. The Mocking-Bird's Nest . . . .33 

Mocking-Bird. Mimus polyglottas. 

IV. A Tricksy Spirit ...... 65 

Mocking-Bird. Mimus Polyglottas. 

V. The '"Wise Bluebird' ? 95 

Bluebird. Sialia sialis. 

VI. The Golden-Wing 113 

Golden- Wing Woodpecker. Colaptes auratus. 

VII. A Stormy Wooing 129 

Orchard Oriole. Icterus ftpurius. 



VI CONTENTS. 

VIII. Flutterbudget 145 

Brown Thrush, or Thrasher. Harporhynchus 
rufus. 

IX. "O Wondrous Singers " 159 

Gray-Cheeked Thrush. Turdus Fucesceus. 

Alice's Thrush. Turdus Alicice. 

X. A Bird of Affairs 173 

Blue-Jay. Cyanocitta cristata. 

XI. The Blue-Jay Again 189 

XII. Virginia's Wooing . . ."■ ' . . .205 

Virginia Cardinal. Cardinalis Cardinalis. 

XIII. Friendship in Feathers 221 

Scarlet Tanager. Piranga erythromdas. 
English Goldfinch. Fringilla carduelis, 

XIV. The Rosy Shield 237 

Rose-Breasted Grosbeak. Habia ludoviciana, 

XV. The Bird of Mystery 251 

Birds of Paradise. Paradiscea. 



BABY BIRDS. 



And oft an unintruding guest, 

I watched her secret toils from day to day ; 
How true she warped the moss to form the nest, 

And modeled it within with wood and clay. 
And by and by, like heath-bells gilt with dew, 

There lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers, 
Ink-spotted over, shells of green and blue : 

And there I witnessed in the summer hours 
A brood of Nature's minstrels chirp and fly, 
Glad as the sunshine and the laughing sky. 

John Clare. 



I. 

BABY BIRDS. 



u Ears have they, but they hear not," may 
be said of all the world. Tragedies and come- 
dies go on continually before us which we nei- 
ther see nor hear ; cries of distress and prattle 
of infants, songs of love and screams of war, 
alike fall upon deaf ears, while we calmly dis- 
cuss the last book or the news from Borriboo- 
lah-Gha, as completely oblivious as if all this 
stirring life did not exist. 

To be sure these things take place in the 
"upper stories," as Thoreau says, but they are 
none the less audible, and one is tempted to be- 
lieve that bird voices are on a scale to which 
the untrained ear is not attuned. Once learn 
to hear, and nature is full of life and interest. 
The home affairs of our little neighbors whose 
modest cottage swings on a branch of the elm 
beside the door are more attractive than those 
of our fellow creatures in the house across the 
way partly because they are so open in their 



4 BLACKBIRDS IN TROUBLE. 

lives that our attentions do not seem intrusive, 
but more because their ways are not so familiar. 
We can guess how men and women pass their 
time, but we cannot guess why the cat-bird al- 
ways sings from the middle of one particular 
shrub, nor where he has hidden his dusky 
spouse and nest full of babies; and after we 
know him we are eager to discover. 

Upon reaching the charming home of a friend 
in Massachusetts last June, almost the first 
thing I saw was a pair of purple crow black- 
birds in trouble. First arose a medley of queer 
husky tones, clamorous baby cries, and excited 
oriole voices, with violent agitation of the leaves 
of a tall elm, ending with the sudden exit of a 
blackbird, closely followed by a pair of Balti- 
more orioles. The pursued flew leisurely across 
the lawn, plainly in no haste, and not at all 
with the air of the thief and nest robber he is 
popularly supposed to be. Clearly the elm be- 
longed by bird custom to the orioles, for their 
pretty swinging hammock could be seen partly 
hidden by leaves, about half-way up the tree, 
and what business other than that of marauder 
had the sombre-hued enemy upon it ? 

Now the blackbird has no secrets in his life ; 
the whole world is welcome to know his affairs, 
and in fact he proclaims them loudly himself. 
It was easy to see that he had anxiety enough 



DANGER IN THE NEST. 5 

of his own just then, without thinking of dis- 
turbing his neighbors, for he was engaged in 
the task of introducing his young family to the 
world, and every bird watcher knows that is at- 
tended with almost as many difficulties as is the 
same operation in what we call " society." 

If the youngster escape the dangers peculiar 
to the nest, the devouring jaws of squirrel or 
owl, the hands of the egg thief, being shaken 
out by the wind, smothered by an intrusive 
cow-bunting, or orphaned by the gun of a " col- 
lector;" if, neither stolen, eaten, thrown out, 
nor starved, he arrives at the age that his wings 
begin to stir and force him out of the leafy 
green tent of his birth, a new set of dangers 
meet him at the door. He may entangle him- 
self in a hair of the nest-lining, and hang him- 
self at the very threshold of life — a not un- 
common occurrence ; or he may safely reach 
the nearest twig and from there fall and break 
his neck — not a rare accident ; he may be at- 
tacked by a bird who questions his right to be 
on the tree ; he may fly, and, not reaching his 
goal, come to the ground, an easy prey to any 
prowler. 

In this blackbird family one of the little ones 
had taken his first ambitious flight to the ori- 
ole's tree, where he must and should be fed and 
comforted, in spite of the hostile reception of its 



6 A WISE MOTHER. 

gayly dressed proprietor. The father took upon 
himself this duty, and many times during the 
day the above-mentioned scene was reenacted, 
loud blackbird calls, husky baby notes, the 
musical war-cry of the oriole, and a chase. 

A second infant had wisely confined his wan- 
dering to his own tree, one of a group of tall 
pines that towered above the roofs of the vil- 
lage. This one could be easily watched as he 
stood on one branch for an hour at a time, 
sometimes in the nest attitude, head sunk in 
shoulders and beak pointed toward the sky, 
again looking eagerly around on his new world, 
turning his head from side to side, changing 
position to see the other way, and showing him- 
self wide awake although the yellowish baby- 
down was still on his head, and his tail was not 
an inch long. Now and then the mother was 
heard calling in the distance, and as she ap- 
proached he became all excitement, fluttering 
his wings, and answering in the husky tones 
of the family. A moment later, after a quick 
glance around, but without alighting and recon- 
noitring the whole neighborhood, as the robin 
does, she came down beside the eager youngling, 
administered to the wide open mouth what 
looked like two or three savage pecks, but 
doubtless were nothing worse than mouthfuls 
of food, and instantly flew again, while the re- 



A SCRAGGY YOUNGSTER. 7 

freshed infant stretched his wings and legs, 
changed his place a little, and settled into com- 
fortable quiet after his lunch. 

The urchin in the enemy's tree was not the 
most unfortunate of the nestlings. One already- 
lay dead on the ground under the nest where it 
had fallen, and another came down during the 
day, though happily without injury. This one 
was not very bright, or perhaps his baby wits 
were dazed by his sudden descent. He made 
no objection to staying in my hand as long as I 
liked to look at him, and when I placed him on 
a low branch, as a hint that it was safer there, 
he declined to accept my advice, but flew off 
and came to the ground again. He was a 
scraggy looking, rusty black little fellow, the 
most unattractive young bird I ever saw. 
Shortly after this he clambered up on a pile of 
brush about a foot high, without so much as a 
leaf to screen him, and there he stayed all day, 
motionless, being fed at long intervals ; and 
there I left him at night, never expecting to see 
him again. But in the morning he appeared on 
a low shrub on the lawn, and about nine o'clock 
he took courage to launch himself on wing. He 
flew very low across the street, and dropped 
into the tall grass at the foot of a lilac bush. 
Why the parents considered that less safe than 
the open lawn I could not see, but they evi- 



8 THE REDWING BABY. 

dently did, for one of them perched upon the 
lilac, and filled the air with anxious " chucks," 
announcing to all whom it might concern — 
after the fashion of some birds — that here was 
a stray infant to be had for the picking up. 
Perhaps, however, the hue-and-cry kept off the 
quiet-loving cat ; at any rate nothing happened 
to him, I think, for in a day or two the three 
young birds became so expert on wing that the 
whole family left us, and I hope found a place 
where they were more welcome than in that 
colony of house and orchard birds. 

Not so quiet in their ways are the babies of 
another blackbird family — the redwings ; rest- 
less and uneasy, the clumsy little creatures 
climb all about the bushes and trees, and keep 
both parents busy, not only in filling their gap- 
ing mouths, but in finding them when the food 
is brought. They are always seeking a new 
place, and from the moment of leaving the nest 
show in a marked way the unrest, the impa- 
tience of the redwing family. 

Quite as erratic is a much smaller bird, the 
yellow-throated warbler, whose baby ways I 
have seen at the South. One of these bantlings 
no bigger than the end of a thumb will easily 
keep its parent frantically busy rushing about 
after food, and hunting up the capricious wan- 
derer on its return. 



A FEATHERED CRY-BABY. 9 

The wood thrush, on the contrary, is patience 
itself. A youngster of this lovely family sits a 
half hour at a time motionless and silent on a 
branch, head drawn down upon his shoulders, 
apparently in the deepest meditation. When 
he sees food coming he is gently agitated, rises 
upon his weak legs, softly flutters his wings and 
opens his mouth, but never — never cries. 
Should one put a hand do^yn to take him, as 
seemingly could be done easily, he will slip out 
from under it, drop to the ground, and disap- 
pear, in perfect silence. 

The cry-baby of the bird world is the Balti- 
more oriole. As soon as this fluffy young per- 
son appears outside of his nursery, sometimes 
even before, he begins to utter a strange almost 
constant " chrr-r-r." He is not particularly 
active of movement, but he cannot keep silent. 
One little oriole mother whom I watched in 
Massachusetts had no help in raising her brood, 
her mate spending his time on the upper 
branches of the tree. He could not be blamed, 
however ; he was, so far as I could see, perfectly 
willing to aid in the support of the family, but 
Madam actually would not allow him even to 
visit the homestead. When the young were 
out he assumed his share of the labor. The 
first yellow-haired bairn mounted the edge of 
the nest one morning, and after a little stretch- 



10 AN ACCIDENT IN THE FAMILY. 

ing and pluming, tried to fly. But alas he was 
held ! Two or three times he renewed the at- 
tempt, his struggles always ending in failure, 
and I feared I should see a tragedy. Half an 
hour later the mother returned, and whether 
she pushed him down, or merely advised him 
to go back and try again, I cannot say. The 
fact is that he did disappear in the nest, where 
he remained for two or three hours, for it is 
probably safe to assume that the urchin who 
came up later was the same. This time, with- 
out delay upon the brink, he climbed upon a 
twig, hopped about a little, and before long 
flew several feet, alighting on a small branch of 
the same tree. Hardly had he established him- 
self safely and resumed his ordinary call, when 
down upon him from above came a robin, who, 
strange to say, had a nest in one of the upper 
branches of the same tall maple. This robin 
had always recognized the right of the oriole 
parents to their share of the tree, but the young 
one was a stranger, and he fell upon him ac- 
cordingly. He knocked him off his perch ; the 
unfortunate little fellow fell a few feet, then 
gathered himself, fluttered and caught at the 
outside of a clump of leaves on the end of a 
twig, where after frantic struggling he managed 
to secure a hold. Perhaps the robin saw his 
mistake, for he paid no more attention to the 



AN UNNATURAL INFANT. 11 

new-comer, who did not stay long on the tree 
after this second disaster. 

The next morning came up out of the nest 
quite an unnatural oriole baby — he did not 
cry. Silently, he stepped out upon a twig, and 
looked about in the new world around him. 
He carefully dressed his feathers, and often rose 
to his full height and stretched his legs, as if it 
were legs and not wings he needed in his new 
life. The third scion of the household had also 
a marked character of his own. Having planted 
himself on the threshold, and found it a conven- 
ient place to intercept all food on its way to the 
younger ones still unseen, he remained. Every 
time the mother came with a mouthful, he flut- 
tered and coaxed, and usually got it. It was 
too good a situation to leave and he seemed to 
have settled for life ; but his wings overpowered 
his inertia or greed, about four o'clock in the 
afternoon. 

So long had the third young oriole occupied 
his position, that the fourth made his appear- 
ance almost immediately, as though he had 
been waiting. There does appear to be some 

filiation of this sort among the orioles, for in 
all that I have noticed, no two ever came out 

aether (excepting once, when both went back 
almost instantly, and one returned alone). This 
late comer had not the whole long sunny day to 



12 THE NUT-HATCH TRIBE. 

loiter away, and he flew in an hour. The fifth 
and last came up early the next morning evi- 
dently in haste to join the scattered family, for 
he bade farewell to the native tree in a short 
time. No more orioles appeared upon the ma- 
ple from this day, but for two weeks I saw the 
little party about; the father, whom I had 
missed after the flight of the first infant, work- 
ing like a drudge, with two or three hungry 
urchins wherever he went, excepting when he 
sought food in the new-cut grass on the ground. 
He gave us no more songs, but his sweet, low 
call sounded all day on the place. 

Another family of little folk came upon the 
maple after the orioles were gone, a nut-hatch 
tribe. There were three or four of them 
exactly like the mother excepting a shorter 
tail, and they followed her like a flock of sheep, 
over and under branches, around the trunk, up 
or down or any way, never pausing more than 
an instant, not even when she plumped a mor- 
sel into a waiting mouth. She led her little 
procession by her querulous-sounding "quank," 
while they replied with a low " chir-up " in the 
same tone. It was a very funny sight. They 
could fly nicely, but never seemed to think of 
looking for food, and it was plain that the 
busy little mother had no time to teach them. 
It was interesting to see her deal with a moth 



A VICTIM TO AMBITION. 13 

which she found napping on a fence. She ran 
at once to a crack or some convenient hole in 
the rough rail, thrust it in and hammered it 
down. When it was quiet she snipped off the 
wings, dragged it out, and beat it on the fence 
till it was fit for food, the family meanwhile 
gathered around her, clinging closely to the 
fence, and gently fluttering. These nut-hatches 
were remarkably silent, but some that I once 
saw living near the top of two or three tall 
pines were quite noisy, and I spent much time 
trying to see what they were forever complain- 
ing about. There always seemed to be some 
catastrophe impending up in that sky parlor, 
but it never appeared to reach a climax. 

Charming to watch is the bluebird nestling ; 
cheery and gentle like the parents, he seems 
to escape the period of helplessness that many 
birds suffer from, perhaps because he is patient 
enough to stay in the nest till his wings are 
ready to use. The mocking-bird baby has a 
far different time. Victim of a devouring am- 
bition that will not let him rest till either legs 
or wings will bear him, he scrambles out upon 
his native tree, stretches, plumes a little in a 
jerky, hurried way, and then boldly launches out 
in the air — alas I — to come flop to the ground, 
where he is an easy prey to boys and cats, 
both of whom are particularly fond of young 



14 THE YOUNG MOCKER. 

mocking-birds. These parents are wiser than 
the crow blackbirds, for not a sound betrays 
the accident in the family, unless, indeed, the 
little one is disturbed, when they make noise 
enough. They keep out of sight, no doubt 
closely watching the straggler until he gets 
away from people, for although he has proved 
that he cannot fly, the young mocker is by no 
means discouraged ; he trusts to his legs, and 
usually at once starts off on a run " anywhere, 
anywhere, out (in) the world." When far 
enough away for them to feel safe in doing so, 
the parents come down and feed and comfort 
the wanderer, and it is a day or two before his 
wings are of much use to him. 

The most imperious young bird I know is the 
robin. He is perfectly sure he has a right to 
attention, and he intends to have it. If he is 
neglected too long and gets hungry, he calls 
loudly and impatiently, jerking himself up with 
a ludicrous air of stamping his feet. Even 
when he does condescend to go to the lawn 
with mamma, it is not to seek his food — far 
from it ! It is to follow her around, and call 
every moment or two for something to eat. 
The idea that his individual exertions have any- 
thing to do with the food supply seems never 
to occur to him. He expects the fat morsels to 
fall into his mouth as they always have, and 



BABY PEWJ5ES. 15 

why should they not ? He will soon be taught, 
for even baby-birds have to be educated. 

We have assumed in our easy-going way 
that birds %k toil not " because they " do not 
spin/* because they have not surrounded them- 
selves with a thousand artificial wants, as we 
have. But the truth is that nobody can work 
harder than a pair of robins, for example, with 
four or five hungry mouths to fill, and every 
mouthful to be hunted up as it is wanted. No 
one would guess what an ever-yawning cavern 
a baby robin's mouth is, till he has tried to 
bring up a nestling himself. I once kept two 
small boys busy several days at high wages, 
digging worms for one young bird, and then I 
believe he starved to death. 

The training of our winged neighbors is most 
interesting, but so cautiously carried on that 
we rarely see it, though we may often hear the 
robin, oriole, whip-poor-will, and many others 
receive instruction in singing. I have once or 
twice surprised young birds at their lessons, as 
for instance, a pewee family learning to hover 
over the daisies, a beautiful operation of their 
parents which I never tired of watching. I was 
behind a blind when they came, a little flock 
of five or six. They were very playful, and 
kept near together, flying low over the grass, 
alighting in a row on the edge of a pail, com- 



16 A DISMAL FAILURE. 

ing up on the clothes-line, banging awkwardly 
against the house, and in every way showing 
ignorance and youth. I studied one for a long 
time as he balanced himself on the clothes-line 
and looked off at the antics of his brothers 
trying to learn the hovering. One of the par- 
ents flew out over the tall flowers, poising him- 
self gracefully, his body held perfectly erect, 
legs half drawn up, turning his head this way 
and that, hanging thus in the air several sec- 
onds in one spot, then suddenly darting off to 
another like a humming-bird. The little ones 
in a row close together on a low branch of a 
shrub, looked on, and in a moment two or three 
sallied out and tried the same movement. 
They could fly well enough, but when they 
tried to pause on wing the failure was disas- 
trous. Some tumbled out of sight into the 
daisies, others recovered themselves with vio- 
lent efforts and returned hastily to the perch, 
complaining loudly. Then the parents brought 
food, and this went on for some time, while all 
the time the air was full of gentle twitters 
and calls, much baby-talk, and a little paren- 
tal instruction no doubt. 

A delightful field of work awaits the young 
naturalist of to-day. Our predecessors have 
devoted their energies to classifying and arrang- 
ing. They have dissected and weighed and 



A CHARMING STUDY. 17 

measured every part of the little bodies ; they 
know to a fraction the length of wings and 
tails ; they have pulled to pieces the nests, 
"clutched" the eggs, and blown and mounted 
and labeled and set up in cases the whole ex- 
ternal of the little creatures. All that can be 
learned by violence, all the characteristics 
evolved by fear and distress are duly set 
down in the books. You shall find a catalogue 
of the robin's possessions in the shape of feath- 
ers and bones, pictures of his internal anatomy, 
illustrations of his work in nest building, and 
specimens in all stages, but in the whole world 
of these books you shall not find the robin. 
The soul of the robin has escaped them, it is 
not to be taken by force. 

I do not find fault ; it needed to be done, but 
happily — let us hope — it is done, and a more 
enticing field is now open, namely : to make 
personal acquaintance with the birds, find out 
how they live, their manners and customs, and 
their individual characters. This is one of the 
most charming studies in the world, but much 
more is required than a gun and a little or 
much scientific knowledge. There is infinite 
patience, perseverance, untiring devotion, and 
more, — a quick eye and ear, and a sympa- 
thetic heart. If you do not love the birds you 
cannot understand them. 



18 IN THE " UPPER STORIES." 

This is the pleasant path opening now, and 
in some ways it is particularly suited to woman 
with her great patience and quiet manners. 
Once interested in the lives in the " upper 
stories," you will find them most absorbing; 
novels will pall upon you, fancy work seem friv- 
olous, society duties a bore, and talk — loud 
enough to interfere with listening — an imper- 
tinence. 



BIRD-STUDY IN A SOUTHERN 
STATE. 



He loved the ever deepening brown 
Of summer twilights on the enchanted hills ; 
Where he might listen to the starts and thrills 
Of birds that sang and rustled in the trees, 
Or watch the footsteps of the wandering breeze, 
And the bird's shadows as they fluttered by, 
Or slowly wheeled across the unclouded sky. 

Kichard Watson Gilder. 



II. 

BIRD-STUDY IN A SOUTHERN STATE. 



The most interesting experience in several 
years of bird-study was a trip to a Southern 
State for the purpose of making acquaintance 
with the mocking-bird. 

Adventures began before the lights of New 
York sank below the horizon ; adventures more 
strange than agreeable, for the journey was by 
steamer. Hardly had we passed out of the bay 
when there began a gentle roll which speedily 
sent passengers to bed. When we passed Long 
Branch the motion was a steady rock from side 
to side, that made one feel like a baby in a cra- 
dle, and before bedtime it was a violent swing 
that flung one about like a toy, and tossed the 
furniture around like doll-house belongings. 

Holding on to the side of the berth with 
both hands, I passed the night listening to the 
labored strokes of the engine and the crashing 
of the loosened freight in the hold, and enter- 
tained by the eccentric conduct of the loose ar- 
ticles in my state-room, a trunk, chair, life-pre- 



22 DANCE OF THE FURNITURE. 

server, plate, saucer, and teaspoon, which with 
one accord, and in spite of all I could do by- 
most ingenious wedging, joined in a peculiar 
dance between the outer wall and the inner par- 
tition of my room. At one moment they rested 
quietly in their several ways, against the wall ; 
the steamer lurched, and all started madly 
across the floor, the heavy things first, and 
the lighter bringing up the rear, each banging 
violently against the partition, with thump, 
rattle, or jingle according to its nature, then in 
a moment dashing back so furiously that I 
feared to see the thin planks yield and my 
trunk go out to sea by itself. Not that I cared 
for my trunk — my life was the subject that in- 
terested me at the time. Outside, too, the doors 
and blinds rattled, the tiller-chain chattered 
and wailed and sobbed like a woman in distress, 
and above all other sounds rose the dismal 
fog horn, for a pall of mist had settled over us. 
Day differed from night only in being light, 
for the sole prospect from the guards was one 
moment the fog above, where the sky should 
be, the next the depths of the sea yawning as 
if to receive the ship into its bosom. In this 
manner, during two days and three nights, we 
rolled on to our destination, and for days after 
my feet touched blessed Mother Earth I reeled 
and staggered like a drunken man. 



THE SALT MAHSH. 23 

After the storm, the calm. There followed 
upon this rough voyage weeks of quiet, delight- 
ful bird-study, whose long sunny days were 
passed in the fragrant depths of pine groves, 
under arching forest of sweet-gum trees, or on 
the shore of the salt marsh ; but wherever, or 
however, always following and spying out the 
ways of the feathered world. 

The bird of the South — the mocking-bird, 
was the first object of study. By day he was 
watched and noted, during the long twilight he 
was listened to, and at midnight sleep was often 
banished by his wonderful and enchanting 
voice. Gray and inconspicuous in coloring, we 
all know him in the cage ; but how different in 
freedom ! how wild and bewitching his song ! 
how wise and knowing his ways ! how well 
worth weeks of study is this one bird ! 

Here were dozens of other birds also. What 
keen delight to one fresh from the town, to 
look over the marsh where 

"Leagues and leagues of marsh grass, waist high, broad in 

the blade, 
Green and all of a height, and unflecked with a light or a 

shade, 

h leisurely off in a pleasant plain 
To the terminal blue of the main ; " 

to watch the great snowy heron sweeping over 
with broad white wing, tripping gracefully 



24 MARSH BIRDS. 

about on the edges of the channels, and toward 
night betaking itself to a line of trees in the 
distance, that looked as if full of snowy blos- 
soms that moved and changed about and at last 
settled for the night; to see the bald eagle 
catch a big fish and call his mate to help him 
eat it; to watch the lesser tern hover with 
yellow bill pointed downward and sharp eye 
fixed on the water, and at length stiffen his 
wings and dive head first into it, bringing out 
his prey, and filling the air with cries in a com- 
plaining, squealing tone that always reminds 
one of a young pig ; to gaze fascinated at the 
bewitching flight of the ring-plover, sweeping 
low over the water in a small flock, now almost 
invisible as the sombre-colored backs turn 
toward you, now suddenly flashing bright as 
silver when the breasts come into sight, moving 
in perfect unison as if impelled by one will. 
More, many more birds of the marsh attract 
and draw one, but inland is the mocking-bird, 
and after a walk along the shore, always my 
feet turned to the groves and the fields where 
the matchless bird lives his life. 

To see, as well as hear a wild mocking-bird 
sing, is worth a journey, even over the rolling 
deep. I passed hours in a pleasant grove be- 
yond the gardens and fields, watching and lis- 
tening to one bird whose concert hall it was. 



A SUN-WORSHIPER. 25 

The grove was the audience room where one 
might be in the shade and not too conspicuous 
in watching him. His chosen place was in the 
sunshine, for this bird is a sun-worshiper. I 
always found him singing when I reached the 
spot. Perhaps on the top spike of a young 
pine-tree, balanced on one, or sometimes on 
two adjoining top twigs — which of course 
stand straight up — stood the singer, madly 
shouting his most peculiar medley. He looked 
at me as I passed near his perch, but did not 
pause in his song. After I had taken my seat 
he flew — singing as he went — alighted nearer, 
on the upper sprig of a cedar, turned his eyes 
upon me, and treated me to another perform- 
ance, while I looked and listened enchanted. 

Nor was I the only listener. Ever and anon 
while absorbed in the entertainment, or waiting, 
breathless, for a new note, I was startled by a 
rustle, and a low " Good evenin' Missis," and 
glanced up to see a negro stealing along in a 
stealthy way. It might be a woman with a 
big bundle or basket on her head, possibly a 
slouching young man or " boy " with an air of 
interest in my eccentric proceedings, or a group 
of youngsters with nothing particular to do, 
but one and all perfectly silent in movement. 
No wonder they know all about the birds, and 
lay violent hands on eggs, nests, or nestlings as 



26 NEST ROBBEBS. 

they choose, creeping around as they do with- 
out a sound. It is only surprising that a bird 
is left in the State, so persistently do they rob 
the nests. Naturally the mocking-bird, for which 
they can always find purchasers, is the most 
desirable, and white as well as black persecute 
that bird unceasingly. 

"You can't keep them from the negroes," said 
a young white man. " I 've often been watching 
a nest to get the young ones myself, but some 
nig was sure to take it before me." 

Speaking of negroes, I never saw so many 
idle men and grown boys. Not a spot could be 
found so secluded that one or more did not soon 
make his appearance. Selecting the quiet yard 
of a summer cottage, a deserted-looking place 
wot yet opened for the season, in which to study 
the ways of the birds in peace, I was often 
disturbed by a negro passing across the lawn, 
taking no heed of fences, for there 's no sort of 
a fence in that country that they will not pass 
over as if it were not there. Of course this 
always put to flight the dramatis personse of 
my study. One day an interesting (or inter- 
ested) person of color appeared on the scene 
equipped for white-washing, and proceeded to 
adorn tree trunks, fences, buildings, etc., etc., 
relieving his labors by questioning me about 
northern manners and customs. On another 



A LOVELY NOOK. 27 

occasion when I was looking anxiously to see a 
certain family of nestlings make exit from the 
nest, a building that I supposed to he a shut-up 
store-room was thrown open, a wash-tub appeared 
before the door, and I found that a family of 
eight, including four children, had moved in, 
not thirty feet from my chosen seat, and of 
course to the utter destruction of any seclusion. 

I could not select a single spot in the neigh- 
borhood, favorable to quiet study, without hav- 
ing it made desolate or turned into a thorough- 
fare. The loveliest place I found at all was a 
footpath passing for about fifty feet through a 
fringe of low cedar, sweet gum trees, and shrubs 
loaded with pink lily-of-the-valley shaped blos- 
soms. Across the path ran a brooklet, a mere 
thread of water, so shallow that small birds 
stood in the middle to bathe, though it deepened 
into a pool below, where frogs croaked and 
plunged. It was cool ; it was quiet, far from 
the everywhere present negro hut ; there was no 
sound but the trickle of the streamlet as it fell 
into the pool, and the softened roar of the ocean 
nd the wide salt marsh. 

To this nook I went every day, always trying 
to surprise the birds at their usual occupations, 
but never quite succeeding; for steal in quietly 

I might I always heard low remarks, a slight 
flutter of wings, and usually saw a dark form 



28 A CALL FROM BOB WHITE. 

or two departing near the ground behind some 
shrub. Slowly and quietly, however, I took my 
seat on a bank close under a thick bush, — 
while the silence around me was as profound as 
if no wing had ever fluttered there, — and be- 
came as motionless as circumstances would al- 
low, for beside the birds there were other tenants 
not half so shy. 

After a few moments, when the ripple I 
caused had died away, sounds of life began 
again; unknown water creatures made queer 
noises in the pool below, low bird tones, unfa- 
miliar scraps of song fell on the ear, ordinary 
ways were resumed. 

In this pleasant place I made acquaintance 
with the painted-finch, or nonpareil, who was 
least frightened of the small birds, and stood pa- 
tiently on a cedar twig till I became quiet, then 
came down in plain sight, waded up to the tops 
of his firm little legs in the water, and deliber- 
ately took his bath before my very face. Here 
also I had a call from Bob White, who cau- 
tiously lifted a striped cap and a very bright 
eye above the grass tops to look at me. He did 
not introduce himself ; indeed, after a moment's 
steady gaze his head dropped and I saw him no 
more, but I heard him rustle in the grass on 
the way to the strawberries, of which he de- 
mands — and gets — his share. 



TRAGEDIES OF THE NESTS. 29 

Ruin fell upon this charming retreat in this 
wise. One day on my approach I saw commo- 
tion in the shrubs and two negroes at work 
chopping great branches out on each side of the 
path, letting in the sun to my bank, and turn- 
ing it into a hideous wreck. I protested. 

11 Why is this ? AVhat are you doing? " 

11 Oh, we 're just cuttin' some pea-poles ! " they 
replied calmly. They had been too lazy or too 
indifferent to step ten feet on one side into the 
thicker copse, and leave the pretty path in its 
beauty, and the mischief was done, and after all 
it was not my business. I passed on. 

Bird-study has other annoyances in that part 
of the world beside the human beings of whom 
I have spoken. Next, perhaps, are the suffer- 
ings which wring the heart all the while. John 
Burroughs has written the tragedies of the 
nests ; he could add a chapter more tragical than 
all, should he visit the haunts of the mocking- 
bird. Nothing can be more dreadful than the 
matic and persistent war made upon this 
bird, of which nevertheless every Southerner is 
proud. 

Lastly, the hindrances which Dame Nature 
If throws around her mysteries. There 
are the prickly pears, sowed broadcast over the 
land so thickly that one can hardly avoid step- 
ping on them, with thorns sharp as needles, and 



30 QUEER STORIES. 

as long. One of an inch in length that I had 
the curiosity to examine had forty-five thorns, 
equal to two papers of number six sharps, that 
stuck out in every direction, and would pass 
through an ordinary shoe with perfect ease. 
This interesting vegetable has no local attach- 
ments whatever, and readily clings to any part 
of one's garment. 

Then there are the mosquitoes with which the 
same careful mother peoples the groves, even in 
April, industrious little creatures not in the 
least enervated by the climate. But her grand 
dependence, judiciously settled indeed, is on the 
sand flies. Wherever there is not a howling 
gale — there are the flies in millions, most inde- 
fatigable and maddening of pests. And finally, 
to take home with you, to remind you pleas- 
antly of her hospitalities when you have reached 
your own room, is the tick ! 

Ties from the outer w r orld began at last to 
draw. The birdlings in the nest were not ready 
to come out, and growing impatient I drew 
upon the knowledge — or rather the ignorance 
— of the residents and heard some surprising 
statements, which further observation, however, 
did not confirm. That the mocking-bird baby 
lives for three weeks in the nest ; that part of 
that time the parents carry the nestlings about 
on their backs; that when old enough the young 



BIRDS AND STRAWBERRIES. 31 

are pushed out of their nest, and always fall to 
the ground. 

And the authors of these fables were grown- 
up, and had passed their lives among the mock- 
ing-birds. I curbed my impatience, stayed an- 
other week, and saw all the nestlings out, and 
the nest deserted. 

Another charge also fell to the ground on 
careful observation. The farmers complain — 
as farmers are apt to complain of their best 
friends, the birds — that the mocking-bird eats 
strawberries. I set myself to watch a fine patch 
full of ripe and tempting berries, several times 
when no one was near. Many birds came about, 
mocking-birds, crows, king-birds, orchard ori- 
oles, and others. The mocking-birds ran down 
between the rows of vines catching grasshop- 
pers, the crows did the same service, walking 
with dignity. The king-birds chased flies, the 
orioles searched the fruit trees for insects. One 
and all were working in the interest of the 
strawberry grower. And while I watched, an 
hour or more at a time, not even for dessert 
after filling their stomachs with insects, did one 
take a berry, which I am sure they might be 
considered to have earned. 

I know one lady — would there were more 
like her — who owns a garden on Long Island, 
and when her gardener comes in and says some- 



32 A WISE WOMAN. 

thing must be done to prevent the birds de- 
stroying fruit, calmly says : " Certainly, set out 
another row of plants. Let us have enough 
for the birds by all means, and for ourselves 
too." 






THE MOCKING-BIRD'S NEST. 



Whate'er birds did or dreamed, this bird could say. 

Then down he shot, bounced airily along 

The sward, twitched in a grasshopper, made song 

Midnight, perched, prinked, and to his art again. 

Sweet Science, this large riddle read me plain : 

How may the death of that dull insect be 

The life of yon trim Shakespeare, on the tree ? 

Sidney Lanier. 



III. 

THE MOCKING-BIRD'S NEST. 



" Superb and sole upon a plumed spray- 
That o'er the general leafage boldly grew," 

as literally as though Lanier had sketched that 
particular bird, stood the first free mocking- 
bird I ever heard. His perch was the topmost 
twig of the tallest tree in the group. It was a 
cedar, perhaps fifteen feet high, around which 
a jasmine vine had clambered, and that morn- 
ing opened a cluster of fragrant blossoms at his 
feet, as though an offering to the most noted 
singer on our side of the globe. As I drew 
near he turned his clear, bright eye upon me, 
and sang a welcome to North Carolina ; and 
several hours later, when the moon rose high 
over the waters of the Sound, he completed his 
perfect performance with a serenade, the like 
of which I fear I may never hear again. I 
chose to consider his attentions personal, be- 
cause, of all the household, I am sure I was the 
only one who listened, and I had passed over 
many miles of rolling and tossing ocean to 
make his acquaintance. 



36 IN HIS DOMESTIC RELATIONS. 

Nothing would have been easier, or more 
delightful, than to pitch one's tent in a certain 
pine grove not far away, and pass days and 
weeks in forgetting the world of cares, and 
reading favorite books, lulled at all hours of 
day and night by the softened roar of the 
ocean and the wonderful bird 

" Singing the song of everything, 
Consummate sweet, and calm." 

But it was not merely as singer that I wished 
to know him ; nor to watch his dainty and 
graceful ways as he went about the daily duties 
of food -hunting, singing, and driving off ma- 
rauders, which occupied his hours from dawn 
to late evening, and left him spirit enough for 
many a midnight rhapsody. It was in his 
domestic relations that I desired to see him, — 
the wooing of the bride and building the nest, 
the training of mocking-bird babies and start- 
ing them in the world; and no loitering and 
dreaming in the pine grove, however tempting, 
would tell me this. I must follow him to his 
more secluded retreats, see where he had set 
up his homestead. 

Thoreau — or is it Emerson ? — says one al- 
ways finds what he looks for, and of course I 
found my nests. One pair of birds I noticed 
through the courtship, the selection of the site, 
the building and occupying of the nest; an- 



A FRIENDLY MOCKING-BIRD. 37 

other couple, already sitting when discovered, 
I watched through the incubation and nursing 
of the little ones, and at last assisted in giving 
them a fair chance for their lives and a start 
in the world. It may be thought that my as- 
sistance was not particularly valuable ; the birds 
shared this opinion ; none the less, but for my 
presence not one of those birdlings would be 
free and happy to-day, as I hope and believe 
they are. To the study of these two house- 
holds I gave nearly every hour of daylight, in 
all weathers, for a month, and of the life that 
went on in and around them I can speak from 
personal knowledge ; beyond that, and at other 
times in his life, I do not profess to know the 
mocking-bird. 

The bird whose nest-making I witnessed was 
the one whose performance I chose to consider 
a welcome, and his home was in the pine grove, 
a group of about twenty trees, left from the 
original forest possibly, at any rate nearly a 
hundred feet high, with all branches near the 
top, as though they had grown in close woods. 
They were quite scattering now, and lower 
trees and shrubs flourished in their shade, mak- 
ing a charming spot, and a home worthy even 
of this superb songster. The bird himself was 
remarkably friendly. Seeming to appreciate 
my attitude of admiring listener, he often 



38 BIRD WOOING. 

perched on the peak of a low roof (separated 
only by a carriage drive from the upper "gal- 
lery" where I sat), and sang for hours at a 
time, with occasional lunches; or, as Lanier, 
his most ardent lover, has it, — 

" Then down he shot, bounced airily along 
The sward, twitched in a grasshopper, made song 
Midflight, perched, prinked, and to his art again." 

Whatever he did, his eyes were upon me ; he 
came to the corner nearest me to sing, and was 
so intelligent in look and bearing that I believe 
he liked a quiet listener. 

His wooing, however, the bird did not intend 
me to see, though two or three times I surprised 
him at it. The first part that I chanced upon 
was curious and amusing. A female, probably 
the " beloved object," stood demurely on one 
of the dead top branches of a large tree down 
in the garden, while her admirer performed 
fantastic evolutions in the air about her. No 
flycatcher ever made half the eccentric move- 
ments this aerial acrobat indulged in. He flew 
straight up very high, executing various extraor- 
dinary turns and gyrations, so rapidly they 
could not be followed and described, and came 
back singing ; in a moment he departed in an- 
other direction, and repeated the grotesque 
performance. He was plainly exerting himself 
to be agreeable and entertaining, in mocking- 



MOCKING-BIRD DANCE. 39 

bird style, and I noticed that every time he 
returned from an excursion he perched a little 
nearer his audience of one, until, after some 
time, he stood upon the same twig, a few inches 
from her. They were facing and apparently 
trying to stare each other out of countenance ; 
and as I waited, breathless, to see what would 
happen next, the damsel coquettishly flitted to 
another branch. Then the whole scene was 
repeated; the most singular and graceful evo- 
lutions, the songs, and the gradual approach. 
Sometimes, after alighting on a top twig, he 
dropped down through the branches, singing, 
in a way to suggest the "dropping song" so 
graphically described by Maurice Thompson, 
but never really falling, and never touching 
the ground. Each performance ended in his 
reaching the twig which she occupied and her 
flight to another, until at last, by some appar- 
ently mutual agreement, both flew, and I saw 
no more. 

A remarkable " dance" which I also saw, 
with the same bird as principal actor, seems to 
me another phase of the wooing, though I must 
Bay it resembled a war-dance as well ; but love 
is so like war among the lower orders, even of 
men, that it is hard to distinguish between 
them. I shall not try to decide, only to relate, 
ami. I beg to say, without the smallest exag- 



40 A STATELY MINUET. 

geration. The dances I saw were strictly pas- 
de-deux, and they always began by a flash of 
wings and two birds alighting on the grass, 
about a foot apart. Both instantly drew them- 
selves up perfectly erect, tail elevated at an 
angle of forty-five degrees, and wings held 
straight down at the sides. Then followed a 
most droll dance. Number one stood like a 
statue, while number two pranced around, with 
short, mincing steps and dainty little hops 
which did not advance him an inch; first he 
passed down the right, then turned and went 
down the left, all in the queer, unnatural man- 
ner of short hops and steps, and holding himself 
rigidly erect, while number one always faced 
the dancer, whichever way he turned. After a 
few moments of this movement, number one 
decided to participate, and when his partner 
moved to the right he did the same ; to the left 
he still accompanied him, always facing, and 
maintaining the exact distance from him. Then 
number two described a circle around number 
one, who turned to face him with short hops 
where he stood. Next followed a chasse of 
both birds to the right ; then a separation, one 
dancing to the right and the other to the left, 
always facing, and always slowly and with dig- 
nity. This stately minuet they kept up for 
some time, and appeared so much like a pair 



LOVE OR WAR! 41 

of old-fashioned human dancers that when, on 
one occasion, number two varied the perform- 
ance by a spring over the head of his partner, 
I was startled, as if an old gentleman had sud- 
denly hopped over the head of the grand dame 
his vis-d-vis. When this strange new figure 
was introduced, number one proved equal to 
the emergency, hopping backward, and turning 
so dexterously that when his partner alighted 
they were facing, and about a foot apart, as 
before. The object of all this was very uncer- 
tain to a looker-on. It might be the approaches 
of love, and quite as probably the wary be- 
ginnings of war, and the next feature of the 
programme was not explanatory; they rose to- 
gether in the air ten feet or more, face to face, 
fluttering and snatching at each other, appar- 
ently trying to clinch; succeeding in doing so, 
they fell to the ground, separated just before 
they touched it, and flew away. O wings! 
most maddening to a bird-student. 

It was not very long after these performances, 
winch seem to me to belong to the courtship 
period, when I noticed that my bird had won 
his bride, and they were busy house-hunting. 
The place they apparently preferred, and at 
fixed upon, was at an unusual height 
for mocking-birds, near the top of one of the 
tall pines, and I was no less surprised than 



42 NEST-BUILDING UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 

pleased to see thein lay the foundation of their 
home in that spot. I congratulated myself that 
at least one brood in North Carolina would 
have a chance to come to maturity and be 
free; and so persistent is the warfare waged 
against this bird — unfortunately marketable at 
any stage from the egg — that I almost doubt 
if another will. The day after they began 
building a northwest storm set in, and for three 
days we had high winds and cold weather. In 
spite of this, the brave birds persevered, and 
finished their nest during those three days, al- 
though much of the time they made infrequent 
trips. It was really most touching to watch 
them at their unnatural task, and remember 
that nothing but the cruelty of man forced 
them to it (one nest had been destroyed). Their 
difficulty was to get up against the wind, and, 
having little experience in flying upward, they 
made the natural mistake of starting from the 
foot of their chosen tree. Sometimes, at first, 
they flew with the body almost perpendicular ; 
and afterwards, when they held the body in 
proper position, they wished to go so directly 
up that they turned the head back over the 
shoulder to see where they were going. The 
wind, too, beat them far out of their course, 
and they were obliged to alight and rest, occa- 
sionally being forced to cling to the trunk of a 



NO MORE FAMILIARITIES. 43 

tree to recover breath and strength to go on. 
They never attempted to make the whole as- 
cent at once, but always stopped four or five 
times, perching on the ends of fallen branches, 
of- which there were eight or ten below the 
living part of the pine. Even when no wind 
disturbed them, they made these pauses on the 
way, and it was always a hard task to reach 
the top. They learned, after a few days, how- 
ever, to begin their ascent at a distance, and 
not approach the tree till at least half as high 
as they wished to go, which simplified the mat- 
ter very much. It was beautiful to see them, 
upon reaching the lowest of the living branches, 
bound gayly up, as though over a winding stair, 
to the particular spot they had fixed upon. 

During the building I missed the daily music 
of the singer. Occasionally he alighted on the 
roof, looked over at me, and bubbled out a few 
notes, as much as to say, "You must excuse 
me now : I am very busy ; " but all the time I 
hoped that while sitting was going on I should 
have him back. I reckoned ignorantly; I did 
not know my bird. Xo sooner was he the pos- 

-sor of a house and family than he suddenly 
became very wary. No more solos on the roof; 
no more confidential remarks; no more famil- 
iarities of any sort. Now he must beware of 
human beings, and even when on the grass he 



44 HE GREW BELLIGERENT. 

held himself very erect, wings straight down, 
every instant on guard. His happiness de- 
manded expression in song, certainly, but in- 
stead of confining himself to the roof he circled 
the lawn, which was between two and three 
hundred feet wide. If he began in a group of 
cedars on the right, he sang awhile there, then 
flew to the fence next the road without a pause 
in the music, and in a few minutes passed to 
the group of pines at the left, perched on a 
dead branch, and finished his song there. It 
was most tantalizing, though I could but admit 
it a proof of intelligence. 

Another change appeared in the bird with 
the advent of family cares: he was more bellig- 
erent; he drove the bluebird off the lawn, he 
worried the tufted titmouse when it chanced to 
alight on his tree, and in the most offensive 
way claimed ownership of pine-trees, lawn, and 
all the fence bordering the same. Neighboring 
mocking-birds disputed his claim, and many a 
furious chase took place among the trees. (So 
universal is their habit of insisting upon exclu- 
sive right to certain grounds that two mocking- 
birds are never found nesting very near each 
other, in that part of the country. This I was 
assured, and found it true of those I observed.) 
These little episodes in his life kept the pine- 
tree bird from dullness, while his mate was en- 



A LIVELY FROLIC. 45 

gaged in the top of the tall pine, where, by the 
way, he went now and then to see how she was 
getting on. Sometimes his spouse received him 
amiably, but occasionally, I regret to say, I 
heard a " huff" from the nest that said plainly, 
" Don't you touch those eggs!" And what 
was amusing, he acknowledged her right to 
dictate in the matter, and meekly took his de- 
parture. Whenever she came down for a lunch, 
he saw her instantly, and was ready for a frolic. 
He dropped to the grass near her, and they 
usually indulged in a lively romp, chasing each 
other over and through the trees, across the 
yard, around the garden, and back to the lawn, 
where she went on with her eating, and he re- 
sumed his singing. 

While I was watching the pine-tree house- 
hold, the other nest, in the top of a low, flat- 
topped cedar, perhaps twenty-five feet high, and 
profusely fringed with Spanish moss, became of 
even more interest. I could not see into the nest, 
for there was no building high enough to over- 
look it, but I could see the bird when he stood 
upon the edge. Sitting, in a warm climate, is 
not particularly close work. Although the 
ktber was cool, yet when the sun was out the 
sitter left her nest from six to eight minutes at 
a time, and as often as once in twenty minutes. 
Of in rain she had not so much liberty, 



46 THE YOUNGSTERS OUT. 

and on some days left only when her mate was 
ready to take her place, which he frequently 
did. 

On the ninth day of my watching (I had 
not seen the beginning of the sitting), the 3d 
of May, I found work was over and the young- 
sters were out. There was much excitement 
in the cedar-tree, but in a quiet way ; in fact, 
the birds became so silent and so wary in 
approaching the nest that it required the closest 
watching to see them go or come, and only 
occasionally could I detect any food in the beak. 
I discovered very soon that mocking-bird babies 
are brought up on hygienic principles, and have 
their meals with great regularity. For some 
time both parents were exceedingly busy, 
going and coming almost constantly ; then 
there came a rest of a half hour or more, dur- 
ing which no food was brought. Each bird had 
its own way of coming to the tree. Madam 
came over the roof of the cottage where I sat, 
and was exposed to view for only a few feet, 
over which she passed so quickly and silently 
that I had to be constantly on the alert to see 
her at all. The singer had another way, and 
by rising behind a hickory-tree beyond the 
cedar managed to keep a screen of branches 
between him and myself nearly every foot of 
the way. I could see them both almost every 



IN THE R&LE OF A PROVIDENCE. 47 

time, but I could not always tell whether they 
carried food. Now the bluebird, honest soul, 
always stops in plain sight to rest, with his 
mouth full of dainties for his young brood, and 
a robin will stand staring at one for two minutes 
with three or four wriggling worms in his 
beak. It is quite a different affair in the mock- 
ing-bird family, as is certainly natural, after the 
persecution it has endured. No special fear of 
me was the cause, — it is a marked peculiarity 
of the bird ; and I think, with a little study, 
one could learn to know exactly the moment 
the eggs hatch by the sudden silence and wari- 
ness of both birds. Poor little creatures ! a 
sympathetic friend hates to add to the anxiety 
they suffer, and he cannot help a feeling of 
reproach when the brave little head of the fam- 
ily alights on the fence, and looks him straight 
in the eye, as if to demand why he is subjected 
to all this annoyance. I had to console myself 
by thinking that I was undoubtedly a provi- 
dence to him ; for I am certain that nothing 
but my watching him so conspicuously that 
every negro within a mile saw me, saved his 
family to him, so low and easy of access was 
the nest. 

The day those nestlings were one week old 
they uttered their first cry. It was not at all 
a " peep," but a cry, continued a few seconds ; 



48 THE BABIES' CRT. 

at first only when food was offered to them, 
but as they increased in age and strength more 
frequently. It was much like a high-pitched 
" e-e-e," and on the first day there was but one 
voice, which grew rapidly stronger as the hours 
went by. The next day another and a weaker 
cry joined the first, now grown assured and 
strong. But the music of the father was 
hushed the moment the youngsters began ; from 
that time until they had left the nest, he sang 
not a note in my hearing. Perhaps he was too 
busy, though he never seemed to work so hard 
as the robin or oriole; but I think it was 
cautiousness, for the trouble of those parents 
was painful to witness. They introduced a 
new sound among their musical notes, a harsh 
squawk ; neither dog nor negro could cross the 
yard without being saluted with it. As for me, 
though I was meekness itself, taking the most 
obscure position I could find, and remaining as 
absolutely motionless as possible, they eyed me 
with suspicion; from the first they "huffed" 
at me, and at this point began to squawk the 
moment I entered the gate. On one occasion 
I discovered that by changing my seat I could 
actually see the nest, which I much desired ; so 
I removed while the birds were absent. Madam 
was the first to return, with a beakf ul of food ; 
she saw me instantly, and was too much excited 



ANXIOUS TIMES. 49 

to dispose of her load. She came to my side 
of her tree, squawked loudly, flapping her 
wings and jerking herself about. I remained 
motionless and did not look at her, pretending 
to be absorbed in my book ; but she refused to 
be mollified. It evidently did not please her 
to have me see so plainly ; she desired to retain 
the friendly screen of leaves which had secured 
her a small measure of privacy. I could not 
blame her ; I felt myself intrusive ; and at last 
I respected her wishes and returned to my old 
place, when she immediately calmed down and 
administered the food she had held till then. 
Poor mother ! those were trying times. Her 
solicitude overpowered her discretion, and her 
manner proclaimed to every one within hearing 
that the nestlings were out. Then, too, on the 
eighth day the little ones added their voices, 
and soon called loudly enough to attract the 
dullest of nest-robbers. I was so fearful lest 
that nest should be disturbed that I scarcely 
dared to sleep o' nights ; the birds themselves 
6 hardly more anxious than I was. 
The eleventh day of the birdlings 1 life was 
ex ••• riingly warm, without a breath of air stir- 
ring, suffocating to humanity, but preeminently 
inspiring to mocking-birds, and every singer 
within a mile of me, I am sure, was singing 
madly, excepting the newly made parent. Up- 



50 OUT OF THE NEST. 

on reaching my usual seat I knew at once, by 
the louder cry, that a young bird was out of the 
nest, and after some searching through the tree 
I found him, — a yellowish-drab little fellow, 
with very decided wing-markings, a tail per- 
haps an inch in length, and soft slate-colored 
spots, so long as almost to be streaks, on the 
breast. He was scrambling about the branches, 
always trying to get a higher place, calling and 
perking his insignificant tail in true mocking- 
bird fashion. I think the parents disapproved 
this early ambition, for they did not feed him 
for a long time, though they passed him to go 
to the nest. So far from being lightened, their 
cares were greatly increased by the precocious- 
ness of the youngster, and from this moment 
their trouble and worry were grievous to see. 
So much self-reliance has the mocking-bird, 
even in the nest, that he cannot be kept there 
until his legs are strong enough to bear his 
weight, or his wings ready to fly. The full- 
grown spirit of the race blossoms out in the 
young one at eleven days, and for several more 
he is exposed to so many dangers that I won- 
der there is one left in the State. 

The parents, one after the other, came down 
on to a bush near my seat to remonstrate with 
me ; and I must admit that so great was my 
sympathy, and so uncomfortable did I feel at 



THE BABY "FLOPS." 51 

adding in the least to their anxiety, that I 
should never have seen that young family 
fledged, only that I knew perfectly well what 
they did not, that I was a protection to them. 
I tried to reassure the mother by addressing 
her in her own language (as it were), and she 
turned quickly, looked, listened, and returned 
to her tree, quieted. This sound is a low 
whistling through the teeth, which readily 
soothes caire birds. It interests and calms 
them, though I have no notion what it means 
to them, for I am speaking an unknown tongue. 

The baby on the tree was not quiet, climbing 
about the branches every moment that he was 
not engaged in dressing his feathers, the first 
and most important business of the newly 
emancipated nestling. After an hour or more 
of watching there was a sudden stir in the fam- 
ily, and the youngster made his appearance on 
the ground. He was not under the side of the 
tree on which he had been resting, so, although 
I did not see the passage, I knew he had not 
fallen, as he is popularly said to do, but flown 

well as he was able. I started slowly down 
the yard to examine the little stranger, but was 
absolutely startled by a cry from the mother, 
that sounded exactly like " Go 'way I " as I 
have often heard a negro girl say it. Later it 
was very familiar, a yearning, anxious heart- 
aching sound to hear. 



52 OFF ON HIS TRAVELS. 

The youth was very lively, starting off at 
once on his travels, never for an instant doubt- 
ing his own powers. I saw his first movement, 
which was a hop, and, what surprised and 
delighted me, accompanied by a peculiar lifting 
of the wings, of which I shall have more to 
say. He quickly hopped through the thin grass 
till he reached a fence, passed down beside it 
till a break in the pickets left an open place 
on the bottom board, sprang without hesitation 
upon that, and after a moment's survey of the 
country beyond dropped down on the farther 
side. Now that was a lane much frequented 
by negroes, and, being alarmed for his safety, 
I sent a boy after him, and in a moment had 
him in my hand. He was a beautiful little 
creature, having a head covered with downy 
dark feathers, and soft black eyes, which 
regarded me with interest, but not at all with 
fear. All this time, of course, the parents were 
scolding and crying, and I held him only long 
enough to look carefully at him, when 1" replaced 
him on the grass. Off he started at once, di- 
rectly west, — like the " march of empire," — 
went through the same fence again, but further 
down, and, as I could tell by the conduct of the 
parents, in a few moments was safely through 
a second fence into a comparatively retired old 
garden beyond, where I hoped he would be un- 



HE FOUND THE WORLD HARD. 53 

molested. Thus departed number one, with 
energy and curiosity, to investigate a brand-new 
world, fearless in his ignorance and self-confi- 
dence, although his entrance into the world had 
not been the triumphant fly we might look for, 
but an ignominious " Hop," and was irresistibly 
and ludicrously suggestive of the manner of 
exit from the home nest of sundry individuals 
of our own race, which we consider of much 
greater importance. 

The young traveler set out at exactly ten 
o'clock. As soon as he was out of sight, though 
not out of hearing, — for the youngster as well 
as the parents kept the whole world of boys and 
cats well informed of his whereabouts for three 
days, — I returned and gave my attention to 
number two, who was now out upon the native 
tree. This one was much more quiet than his 
predecessor. He did not cry, but occasionally 
uttered a mocking-bird squawk, though spend- 
ing most of his time dressing his plumage, in 
preparation for the grand entree. At twelve 
o'clock he made the plunge and came to the 
ground in a heap. This was plainly a bird of 
different disposition from number one : his first 
journey evidently tired him. lie found the 
world hard and disappointing, so he simply 

j ed where he dropped in the middle of the 
path, and refused to move, though I touched 



54 A COOL YOUNG MOCKER. 

him as a gentle reminder of the duty he owed to 
his parents and his family. He sat crouched upon 
the gravel and looked at me with calm black 
eye, showing no fear and certainly no intention 
of moving, even indulging in a nap while I 
waited. 

Now appeared upon the scene several persons, 
both white and black, each of whom w r anted a 
young mocking-bird for a cage ; but I stood 
over him like a god-parent and refused to let 
any one touch him. I began to fear that I 
should have him on my hands at last, for even 
the parents seemed to appreciate his character- 
istics and to know that he could not be hurried, 
and both were still busy following the vagaries 
of number one. The mother now and then re- 
turned to look after him and was greatly dis- 
turbed by his unnatural conduct — and so 
was I. He appeared stupid, as if he had come 
out too soon, and did not even know how to hop. 
It was twenty minutes by the watch before he 
moved. His mother's calls at last aroused him ; 
he raised himself upon his shaky little legs, 
cried out, and started off exactly as number 
one had done, — westward, hopping, and lifting 
his wings at every step. Then I saw by the 
enormous amount of white on his wings that he 
was a singer. He went as far as the fence, and 
there he paused again. In vain did the mother 



PRESERVED FROM CAGES. 55 

come and scold : in vain did I try to push 
him along*. He simply knew his own will, and 
meant to have it ; the world might be strange, 
but he was not in the least interested. He 
rested in that spot fifteen or twenty minutes 
more, while I stood guard as before, and pre- 
served him from cages of both negroes and 
whites. At last he did manage to squeeze 
through the fence, and, much relieved, I left him 
to the old birds, one of whom was down in the 
lot beyond the garden, no doubt following up 
hi> ambitious first-born. 

Whoever, meanwhile, was left in the nest had 
a poor chance of food, and one was already cry- 
ing. It was not until six o'clock that the birds 
seemed to remember the nestling ; then it was 
well fed, and left again. Nothing would be 
easier than to follow the wandering youngsters, 
see bow they got on and how soon they were 
able to fly, but this so disturbed the parents I 
had not the heart to do it ; and besides I feared 
they would Btarve the infants, for one was never 
fed while I was near. Doubtless their experi- 
ence of the human race forbade their confiding 
in the kindly intentions of any one. It was well 
that only two of the young appeared in one day, 
for keeping track of them was so serious a mat- 
ter that two parents could scarcely manage it. 

Number three differed from both of his el- 



56 A CRY-BABY. 

ders; he was a cry-baby. He was not bright 
and lively like number one, and he did not 
squawk like number two, but he cried con- 
stantly, and at six p. M. I left him calling and 
crying at the top of his voice. Very early the next 
morning I hastened to the scene of yesterday's 
excitement. Number three was out on the tree. 
I could hear number two still crying and squawk- 
ing in the garden, and from the position and 
labors of the male I concluded that number one 
was in the next lot. It was a dismal, damp 
morning, every grass-blade loaded with water, 
and a heavy fog driving in from the sea. I 
hoped number three would know enough to stay 
at home, but his fate was upon him, and no 
rain was ever wet enough to overcome destiny. 
At about eight o'clock he stretched his little 
wings and flew to the ground, — a very good 
flight for his family, nearly thirty feet, twice as 
far as either of his predecessors had gone ; si- 
lently, too, — no fuss about it. He began at 
once the baby mocker's hop with lifted wings, 
headed for the west fence, jumped upon the 
lower board, squeezed through and was off down 
the garden before the usual crowd of spectators 
had collected to strive for his head. 1 was de- 
lighted. The parents, who were not near when 
he flew, came back soon and found him at once. 
I left him to them and returned to my place. 



THE EMPTY NEST. 57 

But silence seemed to have fallen upon the 
cedar, late so full of life. In vain I listened for 
another cry : in vain I watched for another visit 
from the parents. All were busy in the garden 
and lot, and if any baby were in that nest it 
must surely starve. Occasionally a bird came 
back, hunted a little over the old ground in the 
yard, perched a moment on the fence, and sa- 
luted me with a low squawk, but their interest 
in the place was plainly over. 

After two hours I concluded the nest was 
empty ; and a curious performance of the head 
of the late family convinced me it was so. He 
came quite near to me, perched on a bush in the 
yard, fixed his eyes on me, and then, with great 
deliberation, first huffed, then squawked, then 
Bang a little, then flew. I do not know what the 
bird meant to say, but this is what it expressed 
to me: u You've worried us all through this 
trying time, but you did n't get one of our 
babies ! Hurrah ! " 

In the afternoon I had the nest brought down 
to me. For foundation it had a mass of small 
from six to eight inches long, crooked 
and forked and straight, which were so slightly 
held together that they could only be handled 
by lifting with both hands, and placing at once 
eloth, where they were carefully tied in. 
Within this mass of twigs was the nest proper, 



58 THE MOST GRACEFUL BIRD. 

thick and roughly constructed, three and a half 
inches in inside diameter, made of string, rags, 
newspaper, cotton wadding, bark, Spanish moss, 
and feathers, lined with fine root fibre, I think. 
The feathers were not inside for lining, but out- 
side on the upper edge. It was, like the foun- 
dation, so frail that, though carefully managed, 
it could only be kept in shape by a string around 
it, even after the mass of twigs had been re- 
moved. I have a last year's nest, made of ex- 
actly the same materials, but in a much more 
substantial manner ; so perhaps the cedar-tree 
birds were not so skillful builders as some of 
their family. 

The mocking-bird's movements, excepting in 
flight, are the perfection of grace ; not even 
the cat-bird can rival him in airy lightness, in 
easy elegance of motion. In alighting on a 
fence, he does not merely come down upon it ; 
his manner is fairly poetical. He flies a little 
too high, drops like a feather, touches the perch 
lightly with his feet, balances and tosses upward 
his tail, often quickly running over the tips of 
half a dozen pickets before he rests. Passing 
across the yard, he turns not to avoid a taller 
tree or shrub, nor does he go through it ; he 
simply bounds over, almost touching it, as if 
for pure sport. In the matter of bounds the 
mocker is without a peer. The upward spring 



PLAYING IN A BRUSH PILE. 59 

while sinofin^ is an ecstatic action that must be 
seen to be appreciated ; he rises into the air as 
though too happy to remain on earth, and open- 
ing* his wings, floats down, singing all the while. 
It is indescribable, but enchanting to see. In 
courtship, too, as related, he makes effective use 
of this exquisite movement. In simple food- 
hunting on the ground, — a most prosaic occu- 
pation, truly, — on approaching a hummock of 
grass he bounds over it instead of going around. 
In alighting on a tree he does not pounce upon 
the twig he has selected, but upon a lower one, 
and passes quickly up through the branches, as 
lithe as a serpent. So fond is he of this exercise 
that one which I watched amused himself half 
an hour at a time in a pile of brush ; starting 
from the ground, slipping easily through up to 
the top, standing there a moment, then flying 
back and repeating the performance. Should 
the goal of his journey be a fence picket, he 
alights on the beam which supports it, and hops 
gracefully to the top. 

Like the robin, the mocking-bird seeks his 
food from the earth, sometimes digging it, but 
oftener picking it up. His manner on the 
ground is much like the robin's ; he lowers the 
head, runs a few steps rapidly, then erects him- 
self very straight for a moment. But he adds 
to this familiar performance a peculiar and 



60 LIFTING THE WINGS. 

beautiful movement, the object of which I have 
been unable to discover. At the end of a run 
he lifts his wings, opening them wide, displaying 
their whole breadth, which makes him look like 
a gigantic butterfly, then instantly lowers his 
head and runs again, generally picking up some- 
thing as he stops. A correspondent in South 
Carolina, familiar with the ways of the bird, 
suggests that his object is to startle the grass- 
hoppers, or, as he expresses it, to " flush his 
game." I watched very closely and could not 
fix upon any theory more plausible, though it 
seemed to be weakened by the fact that the 
nestlings, as mentioned above, did the same 
thing before they thought of looking for food. 
The custom is not invariable ; sometimes it is 
done, and sometimes not. 

The mocking-bird cannot be said to possess 
a gentle disposition, especially during the time 
of nesting. He does not seem malicious, but 
rather mischievous, and his actions resemble 
the naughty though not wicked pranks of an 
active child. At that time he does, it must be 
admitted, lay claim to a rather large territory, 
considering his size, and enforces his rights 
with many a hot chase and noisy dispute, as 
remarked above. Any mocking-bird who dares 
to flirt a feather over the border of the ground 
he chooses to consider his own has to battle 



WORRYING TEE CROW. 61 

with him. A quarrel is a curious operation, 
usually a chase, and the war-cry is so peculiar 
and apparently so incongruous that it is fairly 
laughable. It is a rough breathing, like the 
"huff " of an angry cat, and a serious dispute 
between the birds reminds one of nothing but 
a disagreement in the feline family. If the 
stranger does not take the hint, and retire at 
the first huff, he is chased, over and under trees 
and through branches, so violently that leaves 
rustle and twigs are thrust aside, as long as the 
patience or wind holds out. On one occasion 
the defender of his homestead kept up a lively 
singing all through the furious flight, which 
lasted six or eight minutes, — a remarkable 
thing. 

To others than his own kind the mocker 
seems usually indifferent, with the single ex- 
ception of the crow. So long as this bird kept 
over the salt marsh, or flew quite high, or even 
held his mouth shut, he was not noticed ; but 
let him fly low over the lawn, and above all let 
him u caw," and the hot-headed owner of the 
place was upon him. He did not seem to have 
any special plan of attack, like the king-bird or 
the oriole ; his aim appeared to be merely to 
worry the enemy, and in this he was untiring, 
flying madly and without pause around a perch- 
ing crow until he took flight, and then attempt- 



62 THE MARVELOUS SONG. 

ing to rise above him. In this he was not al- 
ways successful, not being particularly expert 
on the wing, though I have two or three times 
seen the smaller bird actually rest on the back 
of the foe for three or four seconds at a time. 

The song of the free mocking-bird ! With it 
ringing in my ear at this moment, after having 
feasted upon it and gloried in it day and night 
for many weeks, how can I criticise it ! How 
can I do otherwise than fall into rhapsody, as 
does almost every one who knows it and de- 
lights in it, as I do ! It is something for which 
one might pine and long, as the Switzer for the 
Ranz-des-Vaches, and the more one hears it the 
more he loves it. I think there will never 
come a May in my life when I shall not long 
to fold my tent and take up my abode in the 
home of the mocking-bird, and yet I cannot 
say what many do. For variety, glibness, and 
execution the song is marvelous. It is a bril- 
liant, bewildering exhibition, and one listens in 
a sort of ecstasy almost equal to the bird's own, 
for this, it seems to me, is the secret of the 
power of his music ; he so enjoys it himself, he 
throws his whole soul into it, and he is so mag- 
netic that he charms a listener into belief that 
nothing can be like it. His manner also lends 
enchantment ; he is seldom still. If he begins 
in a cedar-tree, he soon flies to the fence, sing- 



PURE ECSTASY. 63 

ing as be goes, thence takes his way to a roof, 
and so on, changing his place every few min- 
utes, but never losing a note. His favorite 
perch is the top spire of a pointed tree, low 
cedar or young pine, where he can bound into 
the air as already described, spread his wings, 
and float down, never omitting a quaver. It 
seems like pure ecstasy ; and however critical 
one may be, he cannot help feeling deep sym- 
pathy with the joyous soul that thus expresses 
itself. With all the wonderful power and va- 
riety, the bewitching charm, there is not the 
% * feeling," the heavenly melody, of the wood- 
thrush. As an imitator, I think he is much 
overrated. I cannot agree with Lanier that 

M Whatever birds did or dreamed, this bird could say ; " 

and that the birds are jealous of his song, as 
Wilson says, seems absurd. On the con- 
trary, I do not think they recognize the coun- 
terfeit. The tufted titmouse called as loudly 
and constantly all day as though no mocking- 
bird shouted his peculiar and easily imitated 
call from the house-top ; the cardinal grosbeak 
sang every day in the grove, though the mocker 
copied him more closely than any other bird. 
He repeats the notes, rattles out the call, but 
lie cannot put the cardinal's soul into them. 
The song of every bird seems to me the expres- 



64 IMITATION, BUT NOT A COPY. 

sion of himself; it is a perfect whole of its 
kind, given with proper inflections and pauses, 
and never hurried ; whereas, when the mocker 
delivers it, it is simply one more note added to 
his repertory, uttered in his rapid staccato, in 
his loud, clear voice, interpolated between in- 
congruous sounds, without expression, and lack- 
ing in every way the beauty and attraction of 
the original. 

The song consists entirely of short staccato 
phrases, each phrase repeated several times, per- 
haps twice, possibly five or six times. If he has 
a list of twenty or thirty, — and I think he has 
more, — he can make almost unlimited changes 
and variety, and can sing for two hours or 
longer, holding his listener spellbound and al- 
most without consciousness that he has repeated 
anything. 

So winning and so lasting is the charm with 
which this bird enthralls his lovers that scarcely 
had I left his enchanted neighborhood before 
everything else was forgotten, and there remain 
of that idyllic month only beautiful pictures 
and delightful memories. 

" O thou heavenly bird ! " 



A TRICKSY SPIRIT. 



Bright drops of tune, from oceans infinite 
Of melody, sipped off the thin-edged wave 
And trickling down the bank, discourses brave 
Of serious matter that no man may guess, 
Good-fellow greetings, cries of light distress ; 
All these but now within the house are heard : 
O Death, wast thou too deaf to hear the bird ? 

Sidney Lanier. 



IV. 

A TRICKSY SPIRIT. 



For bird-lovers who know the mocking-bird 
only as a captive in our houses he has few at- 
tractions : a mere loud-voiced echo of the inhar- 
monious sounds man gathers about his home, 
— car-bells, street cries, and other unpleasing 
noises, — and choosing for his performances the 
hours one wants to sleep. Unfortunate is the 
neighborhood in which one is kept. Such was 
my feeling about the bird before I knew him 
in freedom, where he has a song of his own. 
But in my search for native birds I often saw 
the mocker, was surprised to notice his intelli- 
gence of look and manner, and at last took one 
into my bird-room, resolving that the moment 
he began to u mock " he should be given to 
some one who liked having the street in his 
house. My bird was very obliging in the mat- 
ter : six months I watched him daily, and he 
was kind enough not to utter a sound, except 
an occasional harsh " chack." Probably he had 



68 TAKING NOTES. 

too much liberty and too many interests about 
him ; whatever the reason, I thanked him for 
it, and heartily enjoyed the study of his man- 
ners. 

The bird was perhaps the most intelligent 
one I ever watched, the cat-bird being his only 
rival in that regard. Fear was unknown to 
him, and from the moment of his arrival he 
was interested in everything that took place 
around him ; looking at each bird in succession ; 
making close study of every member of the 
family ; noticing the sounds of the street, in- 
cluding the sparrow broils on the porch-roof ; 
in fact, extremely wide-awake and observing. 
To the goldfinch's song he gave attention, 
standing motionless except for a slight nervous 
jerk of one wing, looking and listening as in- 
tently as though studying the notes for future 
use. The freedom of the birds in the room sur- 
prised him, as he showed plainly by the eager 
glances with which he followed every movement 
and marked each act. Upon joining the party 
of the free, he took note of pictures in a news- 
paper, distinguishing objects in the cut, which 
he tried to pick up, as a small wheel and a bar. 
In colors he had a choice, and his selection was 
red ; from a vase of roses of many hues he 
never failed to draw out the red one to pull it 
to pieces on the floor. 



HE APPEARED TO REASON. 69 

Liberty the mocking-bird emphatically en- 
joyed, and at once recognized a string attached 
to his door as a device to deprive him of it ; 
after vainly trying to pick it apart, he betook 
himself to another cage, and refused to go back 
to his own. In any strange cage he stood 
quietly while I walked up to him, and made no 
attempt to leave his quarters, knowing perfectly 
well that I did not care to shut the door upon 
him ; but when at hoine I could not lift my 
hands, or make the slightest movement, with- 
out causing him to dart out of the cage in- 
stantly. Having contention with his room- 
mates about the bits of apple put out for all to 
enjoy, he often carried away a piece to eat at 
his leisure. From habit he flew first to the top 
of a cage, that being his favorite perching place ; 
but he evidently appreciated that, if he dropped 
the morsel, he should lose it through the wires ; 
and after looking one side and the other, plainly 
satisfying himself of this fact, he went to the 
table with it. I never before saw a bird who 
did not have to learn the treacherous nature of 
by experience. He appeared to work 
things out in his mind, — to reason, in truth. 
One cold morning in spring, when the furnace 
fire was out, a large, brilliant lamp was put by 
his cage to take off the chill, for he felt changes 
keenly. He seemed to understand it at once, 



70 HE WAS BIDING HIS TIME. 

and though, no doubt, it was his first experi- 
ence of warmth from a light, he drew as near 
it as possible, and remained there perfectly 
quiet until the sun warmed the room and it was 
removed. Fear, as I said, he knew not, com- 
ing freely upon the desk, or even upon my lap, 
after apple or bread, or anything he fancied. 

It was plain to see that this bird's first week 
with us was one of quiet study and observation. 
Not a movement of bird or man escaped his no- 
tice. He wished to understand, to take meas- 
ure of his neighbors, to be master of the situa- 
tion. This was manifested not only by his 
thoughtful manner and his wise and knowing 
looks, but by his subsequent conduct. During 
this period, also, he submitted to impositions 
from all the birds, even the smallest, without 
resentment. The wood-thrush easily drove him 
away from the apple ; the little goldfinch chased 
him from his perch. He appeared to be meek- 
ness itself ; but he was biding his time, he was 
making up his mind. 

The first time the mocking-bird's door was 
opened he was not in the least surprised ; no 
doubt, seeing others at liberty, he had expected 
it. At any rate, whatever his emotions, he in- 
stantly ran out on the perch placed in his door- 
way and surveyed his new world from this posi- 
tion. He was in no panic, not even in haste. 



TOUR OF INSPECTION. 71 

When fully ready, he began his tour of inspec- 
tion. First, to see if he really could reach the 
trees without, through those large, clear open- 
ings, he tried the windows, each of the three, 
but gently, not bouncing against them so vio- 
lently as to fall to the floor, as more impetuous 
or less intelligent birds invariably do. Having 
proved each to be impassable, he was satisfied, 
and never tried again. Next, the ceiling inter- 
ested him, and he flew all around the room, 
touching it gently everywhere, to assure him- 
self of its nature. Convinced thus in a short 
time that his bounds were only widened, not 
removed, he went on to investigate closely what 
he had looked at from a distance ; every bird- 
cage, inside as well as outside, if the owner hap- 
pened to be away, every piece of furniture, pic- 
tures, books, and the pincushion, — where he 
was detained some time trying to carry off the 
large black heads of shawl-pins. The looking- 
glass absorbed him most completely on the first 
day ; he flew against it, he hovered before it, 
slowly passing from bottom to top, alighted on 
top and looked over behind. I think he never 
solved that mystery to his own satisfaction, as 
he did that of the window-glass, which must 
have been quite as inexplicable, and it was never 
without a certain charm for him. He had no 
trouble in finding his way home : standing on 



72 HIS POSITION TO BE SETTLED. 

a cage next to his, he saw his own door-perch, 
recognized it instantly (though he had been 
upon it only once), and, being hungry, dropped 
to it and ran into the cage. 

The new-comer soon made thorough acquaint- 
ance with all his surroundings, and had leisure 
to turn his attention to a little matter yet un- 
settled ; namely, his position in the small colony 
about him. The first few days, as already noted, 
he submitted to impositions ; allowed himself to 
be driven away from the slices of apple on the 
matting, and turned from the bathing-dish on 
the floor. This was, however, the calm before 
the storm ; though after all that is hardly a cor- 
rect comparison, since there was never the least 
" storm " about his manner ; he was composure 
itself. Having calmly and patiently considered 
the state of affairs, he suddenly asserted him- 
self and took the position he felt was his right, 
— at the head. It soon became evident that he 
was prepared to defend the situation by force of 
arms. He conducted his conquests systemat- 
ically, and subdued one after the other, begin- 
ning with the least. 

The English goldfinch had been very saucy, 
scolding and flying over him as he went around 
the room, in the small bird's way ; but one day 
it came to a sudden end. The goldfinch in his 
cage scolded the stranger for alighting too near 



WAR ON THE FINCH. 73 

his door. The mocking-bird turned, looked 
sharply at him, ruffled up his feathers, and 
jumped heavily to the top of the cage, turning 
one eye down upon his small foe with an air that 
said. k * Who is this midget that insults me ? " 
The finch was surprised, but did not fully ap- 
preciate the significance of this change of man- 
ner until he was let out, when he found at once 
that his amiable neighbor had suddenly become 
an active enemy, who chased him around the 
room till he panted for breath, and would not 
allow him a moment's rest or peace anywhere. 
This was strange experience for the little fel- 
low, for heretofore none of the large birds had 
ever disturbed him. He scolded furiously, but 
he went ; no one could stand against that de- 
termined approach. If the goldfinch wished to 
bathe, his persecutor took his place on the near- 
est perch, not a foot away, thus driving him to 
the floor with the intention of using the big 
birds' bath. He circled around the edge, but it 
did not suit, and he returned to his own, looked 
at his enemy, spattered a little, went back to 
the biu f dish, returned again, and thus vibrated 

een the two for several minutes, while the 
•od motionless, not offering any 

-ration, bat plainly wishing to worry him. 

final act occurred when both chanced acci- 

ally to be in the same cage, not the home 



74 A CURIOUS SCENE. 

of either. The mocking-bird, without provoca- 
tion, dropped from the upper perch upon the 
finch, who uttered a sharp cry and darted away. 
Two or three little feathers flew, though no 
hurt could hatseen ; but the smaller bird panted 
violently for a half hour, as though frightened, 
and for four or five hours sat quietly on a perch, 
neither eating nor making a sound, — a very 
unusual proceeding for the lively chattering lit- 
tle fellow. This proved to be a declaration of 
open war, and was so vigorously followed up 
that before many days the larger bird's door 
was not opened until his victim had had his 
outing and returned to his home. Teasing 
never lost its attraction for him, however. He 
delighted to alight on the cage and worry his 
little foe, or to stand near his door and stare 
at him. On one such occasion a curious scene 
occurred. They stood three inches apart, with 
the wires between them, when the finch sud- 
denly began reaching upward as far as possible ; 
taller and taller he stretched up, till he fairly 
stood on tiptoe. The mocking-bird, not to be 
outdone, imitated the movement on his side of 
the bars, of course towering far above his copy. 
It seemed to afford both of them great satisfac- 
tion ; perhaps it expressed contempt more fully 
than was possible in any other way. 

The largest bird in the room, a Mexican 



A DELIBERATE INSULT. 75 

thrush, was considerably stronger and fiercer 
than our native wood-thrush, and it seemed ab- 
surd for the mocking-bird to measure swords 
with him. So it would have been but for the 
fact that the Mexican, having lost part of his 
wing feathers, was clumsy, unable to fly readily, 
and no match for his active, agile antagonist ; 
he always conquered when hostilities reached 
the point of a personal encounter, but he was 
soon soured, and declined to meet the enemy. 
Two or three times they flew up together, like 
quarrelsome cocks, but the decisive and final 
dispute was over the bathing-dish. It hap- 
pened that morning that the Mexican came out 
before the goldfinch was shut up, and hence the 
the mocking-bird's door was not yet opened. 
He flew at once to the top of his neighbor's 
cage to dress his feathers and shake himself 
out. It looked like a deliberate insult, and the 
captive in his cage evidently so regarded it; 
he crouched on the upper perch and opened his 
mouth at the enemy, who calmly went on with 
his operations. The moment the finch was safe 
at home I opened the door, and the mocking- 
bird came out in haste. Pretending not to see 
the Mexican, he descended to the bathing-dish, 
doubtless to cool his heated blood. The first 
splash, however, interested the enemy on his 
roof, and he flew to the floor ; but the bather 



76 OVER THE BATH. 

paid no apparent attention to him, and went 
on with his business. The Mexican approached 
slowly, a step at a time, with a low, warning 
" chack," which meant, " Make way there, I 'm 
coming." The mocking-bird, manifestly hear- 
ing him, did not take the hint, nor look at his 
assailant, but serenely continued his splashing. 
The Mexican advanced to within six inches 
before he was convinced that force would be 
necessary. When he decided upon an attack, 
he manifested it by a grotesque little hop a few 
inches into the air, but this not alarming the 
enemy he drew near to the dish. Now at last 
the bather condescended to notice him. He 
stood up in the water and faced his adversary, 
bowing rather slowly and with dignity, feathers 
ruffled, and beak opening in the curious way 
usual with him, — stretching it wide, then clos- 
ing it, and constantly repeating the operation. 

After looking a moment at this peculiar dis- 
play, the Mexican hopped upon the edge of the 
dish, and in the same instant, as though moved 
by the same machinery, the mocking-bird sprang 
backward out upon the floor. The usurper 
paid him no further attention, but proceeded 
to bathe, while his discomfited rival took a 
stand on the edge of the disputed dish, which 
was ten inches in diameter, and fanned his 
wings violently. I cannot otherwise name this 



HOSTILITIES CONTINUED. 77 

extraordinary movement, the wings raised high 
above his head, and moved quickly back and 
forth with a fanning motion. The Mexican 
turned suddenly to him and he flew. Two or 
three times he repeated the performance, but 
was each time forced to fly before the large, 
strong beak wielded by his opponent, who fin- 
ished his bath, and retired to a perch to dress 
his feathers. Now the mocking-bird resumed 
his splashing; but when thoroughly wet, the 
thought seemed to strike him that he was not 
in good fighting trim, and must dry himself as 
quickly as possible to be ready for war, which 
he at once did by flirting and shaking himself, 
bounding from one end to the other of a perch, 
though he had suddenly gone mad. He was 
soon in order, and more than ready to resume 
hostilities. The enemy still occupied his favor- 
ite position upon his roof. Two cages stood 
side by side on a shelf, and across the tops of 
them, with great noise and tramping of feet, the 
Mexican delighted to run, thus amusing himself 
an hour at a time. Seeing him off his guard, 
the wary fellow watched his chance, and when 
foe was at one end of the course he sud- 
denly alighted on the other. The Mexican ran 
m;tdly ;it him, clattering his bill furiously, when 
he gracefully rose from his place, flew over, 
and perched on the other end. The run was 



78 OVER THE APPLE. 

repeated, and the mischievous bird continued 
the annoyance until his victim was exhausted, 
panting, and in great excitement. From that 
day the Mexican gave up the contest with his 
too lively antagonist, and refused to come out 
of his cage at all ; so that in fact the stranger 
reduced the colony to submission. 

With the wood-thrush, the encounters dif- 
fered from both the preceding. This bird had 
opened hostilities when the mocker first ap- 
peared, presuming on being the older resident, 
and the only bird who cared much to be on the 
floor. The disputed object, as already men- 
tioned, was the apple, which they received on 
the matting, two pieces being placed at some 
distance apart. Seeing the thrush engaged 
with one, the mocking-bird quietly dropped to 
the other, when instantly the thrush deserted 
his own, ran hastily across the room, and 
claimed that piece. As he approached, the 
mocking-bird lifted himself into the air by a 
beautiful and graceful movement; he did not 
seem to fly, but to simply rise on wing. The 
thrush being occupied with that piece, the 
new-comer descended upon the abandoned slice ; 
but the inhospitable bird wanted that also. 
Even when three or more pieces were at their 
disposal, the thrush tried to monopolize them 
all, though the plan of collecting them in one 



A WAR DANCE. 79 

place never seemed to occur to him. After a 
little of this contention, the mocker generally 
succeeded in carrying off a bit to some quiet 
place, where he could eat at his leisure. Wish- 
ing them to live peaceably, I placed a slice of 
the fruit on a high gas-fixture, where the 
stranger was fond of alighting and no other 
bird ever went. He understood at once, flew 
over to it, and ate his fill. The Mexican ob- 

\ed this, and tramped over his cages (it was 
before he had retired from the world) in a 
rage, seeing a good times going on," and feel- 
ing, evidently, unable to fly so high. Some- 
what later the thrush noticed the excitement, 
flew heavily up, with difficulty alighted beside 
the apple, snatched it off, and carried it to the 
floor. 

Settlement of difficulties between these two 
birds was no chance happening; it was, to all 
appearance, a regularly planned campaign, and, 
like a savage, the aggressor put on his war 
paint and danced his war dance. It was ex- 
tremely interesting to watch, although painful 
to realize that a bird could be animated by 
90 — must I call them human? He 

acted, for the declaration of his intentions, 
a moment when the thrush was in his own 
house and the door open. The approach to 
this cage was by a light ladder, the top round 



80 SETTLING THE THRUSH. 

of which, about a foot in length, rested perhaps 
four inches from the cage, and level with the 
door. Upon this round the mocking-bird exe- 
cuted what has been called his war dance, shak- 
ing himself, shuffling (or moving along without 
raising the feet), and agitating his feathers in 
such a way that they rustled like stiff new silk. 
After a few minutes of this performance he flew 
away, returning presently to repeat it. This 
he did again and again, and bis motive was 
plain. " You 've domineered long enough," 
his manner said: "now come out here, and 
we '11 settle this matter at once." The bird in 
the cage, though plainly surprised at this 
sudden exhibition of spirit, received it like a 
thrush — in silent dignity. He paid no atten- 
tion to the demonstration further than to keep 
his eye upon the enemy, unless he appeared to 
think of entering the door, when he turned his 
open bill in that direction. A long time hav- 
ing passed in these manoeuvres, the thrush, ap- 
parently tired of waiting for the belligerent to 
vacate his front doorstep, retired to the upper 
perch, and the mocking-bird immediately en- 
tered below, took his stand by the food-dish, 
and defied the owner, who came with open 
beak to dispute him, but after a few moments' 
silent protest returned to the high perch, leav- 
ing the intruder to eat and drink as he chose. 



DECIDES TO MOVE. 81 

Another point to settle was the possession of 
the apple. The next time the thrush, not 
warned by previous operations, hurried up to 
claim a slice of the fruit which his foe had 
marked for his own, he was met by resistance. 
To avoid the rush, the mocking-bird lifted him- 
self a few inches, but came down on the same 
spot. The thrush, astonished, but thrush-like 
to the last, stood motionless where he had 
stopped, his body drawn to a point, bill slightly 
open and turned toward the bold intruder. 
That bird ignored his attitude and placidly 
went on eating, and three similar experiences 
ended that annoyance. 

One thing still remained unsettled : the 
mocking-bird decided to change his residence. 
No reason was apparent, but he preferred a 
special place in the room, a certain end of a 
particular shelf ; and no matter what cage was 
there, he insisted on taking possession. The 
day he determined on this removal, he went in 
while the resident — the thrush — was out, and, 
having eaten, proceeded to the upper perches, 
and began jumping back and forth on them, as 
if at home. In due time the owner returned, 
<1 the food-dishes, and started for the 
upper regions, but was met by a threatening 
attitude from the bird already there. He 
seemed to think the matter not worth quarrel- 



82 IN THE NEW HOUSE, 

ing over, since he readily settled himself on the 
middle perch, where he made a most elaborate 
and deliberate toilet, dressing every feather 
with care, and spending a half hour over the 
operation. All this time the invader stood on 
the top perch, backed against the wires, his 
long tail on one side like the train of a lady's 
dress, invincible determination in his manner. 
The calm indifference of the house-owner evi- 
dently did not please him, and the long drawn- 
out toilet was irritating ; he grew thirsty, and 
dropped to the floor to drink, when the thrush 
remonstrated by a low, rapid "chook, chook, 
chook," and the mocking-bird made an impa- 
tient dive at him. This silenced but apparent- 
ly did not hurt the bird, who stayed as long as 
he chose, and then quietly came out. From 
that moment the usurper claimed the cage, 
and the amiable owner easily contented himself 
with the one the other had deserted. 

When the mocking-bird had thoroughly es- 
tablished himself in every right and privilege 
he chose to consider his own, I hoped there 
would be peace, but I had not sounded the 
depths in his character; he began to tease. 
Not content with complete victory, life seemed 
dull without some object to worry. I really 
think it was his amusement ; he certainly went 
at it as if it were. I noticed him one morning, 



TEASING THE THRUSH. 83 

standing on the ladder before his door, appar- 
ently working himself up to something. He 
first looked at me, — I had a book, and pre- 
tended not to see him, — then at the thrush, 
who was on the floor as usual ; he jerked his 
body this way and that, puffed out his feathers, 
especially on the throat and breast, held his 
tail on one side and turned upward at an angle 
of forty-five degrees, which gave him a wicked 
expression. He looked full of life to the tips 
of his toes, and greatly excited. The other 
bir nred him ; the Mexican in his cage 

rustled his wings, jerked his body, and at last 
gave his usual cry. Even the little goldfinch 
was impressed and looked on with interest. 

All this agitation did not escape the notice 

of the bird on the floor, who stood silent, plainly 

understanding, and waiting for the next move. 

Finally the mocking-bird started, gracefully and 

without haste. He first flew easily and lightly 

to the desk, in a moment to the back of a chair, 

then deliberately to an arm, next to the seat, 

and lastly to a round ; at each step pausing, 

king himself, and threatening. When he 

led the floor, he ran a few steps toward 

thrush, stopped short, erected himself very 

r. and puffed out as big as possible; 

then another little ran, and the operation was 

repeated. He proceeded till within a foot of 



84 A CHANGE OF TACTICS. 

the thrush, when he alternated the upright po- 
sition with a lowered head, and bill pointed 
toward the foe, changing from one to the other 
very suddenly. When he came so near, the 
thrush crouched flat on the floor, with beak 
turned squarely against the approaching bird, 
and thus awaited the onslaught. 

In that attitude the mocking-bird did not 
apparently like to attack him., He threatened 
a long time, then retreated gradually, making 
feints, turning, running a few inches, and bring- 
ing up suddenly with a half turn back. In this 
manner he moved away for some distance, then 
flew to the round of the chair, the seat, the 
arm, the back, and so on till he reached the 
ladder again. Then for the first time the 
thrush changed his position and rose to his feet, 
when, without the least warning, the mocker 
flung himself madly after him, and the thrush, 
unprepared, ran, with a sharp cry. Obviously 
the mocking-bird, finding the first method of 
attack, which was probably his usual one, a 
failure, decided to try another, as the event 
proved, successfully. The excitement of this 
performance evidently gave him pleasure, no 
doubt helped to pass away the long hours, for 
he often indulged in it, always making his ap- 
proach in the same deliberate way, tripping 
daintily a step or two at a time, examining 



" WHO'S DONE ANYTHING?' 1 85 

everything in a careless way, tasting a piece of 
apple-skin, lifting a bit of thread, toying and 
dallying to all appearance, as he moved, still 
always advancing, and never turning aside from 
his purpose till he reached the distance of a 
foot from the thrush, crouching motionless with 
crown feathers erect. At that point he often 
stood a moment, looking grimly at his victim, 
then gave a quick, exaggerated jump which 
carried him forward not more than an inch, 
but sent the thrush, in a panic, running half 
room, where he brought up in a 
heap. — his claws sprawled as they slipped on 
the matting, every feather standing up, — and 
made no attempt to draw his feet together. A 
■low, formal attack he could meet, but a sud- 
den rush was irresistible. Then the assailant 
turned, slowly, gracefully, the personification 
of tranquillity, his air saying, "Who's done 
anything?' 1 yet taking a direct line for the 
enemy, approaching in the same way, by easy 
«, but relentlessly drawing nearer and 
nearer, till he ended by a quick plunge, which 
the thrush off with a cry. In a moment 
he be ring, following, tormenting; 

so wily, so wicked, so determined ! 

The motions of this bird were most bewitching ; 
his flight the perfection of grace. He never 
flew straight across the room as if on business, 



86 BEWITCHING MANNERS. 

but always in a dancing, loitering, easy way ; 
hovering to examine a picture, slowly pausing on 
wing to look at anything, turning, wheeling, up 
or down or any way, buoyant and light as the 
air itself. It was his delight to exercise on 
wing about the room, diving between the rounds 
of the ladder, darting under a stretched string 
or into a cage full dash. His feet found rest 
on any point, however small, — the cork in a 
bottle, the tip of a gas-burner, or the corner 
post of a chair ; nothing was too small or too 
delicately balanced for his light touch, and he 
never upset anything. He enjoyed running up 
and down a ladder six feet long with six or eight 
rounds, passing over it so rapidly that he could 
not be seen to touch it at any point, yet not 
using his wings he must have stepped upon 
every round. He always used his legs with a 
freedom rarely seen in a bird, not moving them 
together as usual in his kind, but handling them 
with astonishing independence of each other. 

The body of this bird was capable of wonder- 
ful expression, not only in the free use of each 
member, but every feather seemed under his 
voluntary control. The spasmodic movement 
of the wings in excitement, common to many 
birds, was accomplished in an original manner 
by holding the wing slightly away from the 
body, and spreading or opening it a little at 



EXPRESSION OF EMOTIONS. 87 

each jerk, without changing its position toward 
his side. His tail seemed as loosely connected 
with his body as if it were hung on wires ; it 
moved even with his breathing, and the em- 
phatic flirt of the member was an insult which 
every bird in the room understood. Intense in- 
terest in any sound was indicated by raising the 
feathers over the ears alone, which gave him the 
droll appearance of wearing velvet " ear muffs." 
In expressing other emotions he could erect the 
feathers of his chin, his shoulders or his back, 
either part alone, or all together, as he chose. 
A true bird of the south, he did not enjoy our 
climate, and if the room became too cool he 
made his opinion known by drawing , his head 
down into his shoulders, with every feather on 
his body fluffed out, even to the base of the 
beak, till he looked as if wrapped in delicate 
gray furs to his nose, and almost burying his 
eyes. 

The mocking-bird's emotions were so intense 
and so originally displayed that he was a con- 
stant source of interest. A hand-glass lying face 
up gave opportunity for an amusing exhibition 
one day. Leaning over it, he puffed out every 
feather, opened his mouth, and tried the glass 
with his b»*ak at every point. Meeting no satis- 
faction, he turned to leave it, but first peeped 
slyly over the edge to see if the stranger were 



88 IN THE LOOKING-GLASS. 

still there, no doubt unable to get over bis sur- 
prise at seeing a bird in that position and ready- 
to meet his bill at every point. The same glass 
standing up brought out a different demonstra- 
tion. He stood in front of it and swelled him- 
self out, while the feathers of the shoulders and 
breast were erected. Then he opened his 
mouth wide and attacked the reflection, but was 
astonished to meet the glass. He touched the 
bill of his double with his own, and moved all 
the way to the bottom of the glass, not taking 
it away, but apparently trying to seize the one 
which opposed his. He lowered his head as 
though to take hold of the enemy's foot, then 
pulled himself up as straight as a soldier, 
wings and tail constantly jerking with excite- 
ment. After indulging for some time in these 
proceedings, he dodged around behind the glass, 
plainly expecting to pounce upon his opponent, 
and surprised not to do so. Several times he 
drew himself up, swelled out his breast, and 
blustered before the glass. Once he flew up 
with the reflection in the manner of a quar- 
relsome cock, and upon reaching the top of the 
glass, naturally went over and landed behind, 
without an enemy in sight. Upon this he stared 
a moment, as if dazed, then shook himself out, 
and flew away in evident disgust. 

The deliberate, leisurely dressing of plumage, 



A HASTY TOILET. 89 

with which many birds pass away the dull hours, 
is an occupation in which the mocking-bird 
never had time to indulge. He was a bird of 
affairs : he had too much on his mind for loi- 
tering. A few sudden, thorough shakes, a rapid 
snatching of the wing and tail feathers through 
the beak, or. after a bath, a violent beating the 
air with both wings while holding tightly to the 
perch with his feet, sufficed for his toilet. 

ithstanding his apparent carelessness, his 
plumage was soft and exquisite in texture, and 
when wet the downy breast feathers matted to- 
gether and hung in locks, like hair. Through a 
common magnifying glass each tiny barbule 

-een to be ringed with gray and silvery 
white, so finely that the rings could hardly be 
seen. 

The most beautiful and peculiar attitude this 
bird assumed was when conducting an attack 
upon a small object. Seeing one day a steel 
pen-point black with ink, he stood before it at a 
respectful difl and raised both wings over 

ack till they almost touched each other, 
holding the tail on one side. In two or three 
seconds he lowered the wings a moment, then 

1 them again, while his tail leaned the other 
side. After half a dozen such feint a he deliv- 
ered a gentle peck, and instantly hopped back 
out of the way. Seeing that it did not move, he 



90 ATTACKING A PARROT. 

took it in his bill and flew to the floor, where 
he soon satisfied himself that it was not a new 
variety of beetle. This was always his method 
with any new object of small size. 

Not only did this doughty warrior vanquish 
the ordinary birds about him, but when a gray 
African parrot made his appearance in the room 
(on a short visit) he boldly attacked him, in 
spite of his size and strength. The parrot had a 
temporary perch before the window, and on the 
cage nearest to him the mocking-bird took his 
place, and after posturing and threatening, 
stooped to a crouching position, and then darted 
past him, trying to hit him as he went. The 
first time this occurred the parrot whirled on 
his perch and cried " Whoo ! " and after that 
greeted every charge with a very good imitation 
of a policeman's rattle, probably as the loudest 
and most terrifying noise he could make. So 
determined was the belligerent fellow to subdue 
or annihilate the larger bird, and so reckless 
were his attacks, that I had to keep him a pris- 
oner during the few days the parrot was in the 
room, for hospitality must not be violated. It 
is interesting to note that so great was his va- 
riety of resource that he had a distinctly differ- 
ent method of warfare in each of the six cases 
mentioned. 

A dignified composure was so natural to my 



SUBMISSIVE TO THE INEVITABLE. 91 

bird that he was never startled out of it, not 
even when suddenly enveloped in a shawl, a 
proceeding that greatly alarms birds of less self- 
possession. It was necessary on one occasion 
to catch him to return him to his cage, where he 
might be protected from the cold of the night. 
All the usual ways were tried without success, 
so lightly did he slip away, so gracefully and 
calmly did he flutter around the room, not in the 
least disturbed or confused by the darkness, and 
quite willing to play hide-and-seek all night. 
No other way availing, the last resource was 
tried — throwing a shawl over him as he stood 
crouched on the top of the cage, ready for in- 
stant flight. Not a flutter nor a cry arose, and 
it seemed that he must have escaped; but on 
looking through the cage from below, he was 
seen flattened against the wires, but perfectly 
quiet, submissive to the inevitable, like any 
other philosopher. He was gathered up in the 
folds and carefully uncovered before his own 
door, when he simply hopped to a perch and 
coolly returned the gaze of his captors, not a 
feather oat of place, not in the smallest degree 
disconcerted. 

Amusements were not lacking in this inter- 

ting life aside from the pleasures of worrying 

and teasing, which plainly were entertainments 

for him. lie indulged in other performances 



92 MAD FROLICS. 

which distinctly were play. Especially was this 
true of the habit he imitated from the Mexi- 
can, — tramping across two cages heavily, with 
as much noise as possible, and then with an ex- 
travagant jump landing on another cage, where 
he was received with a scolding, which appar- 
ently pleased him as much as any part of it. 
A specially quick flying-run rattled a paper 
fastened against the wall, which delighted him 
greatly ; and when the cages were covered with 
paper, to put an end to the proceeding which 
annoyed the residents, he regarded it as a par- 
ticular attention, and enjoyed it more than ever, 
doubtless because it enabled him to make a 
louder noise. Often he diverted himself by a 
mad frolic in his cage ; from place to place he 
went half flying, and scarcely touching anything ; 
back and forth, with great flutter of wings and 
great noise ; up and down, under and over and 
around his perches, in the same wild way, so 
that it seemed as if he must beat his brains out. 
Then suddenly, when most riotous, he alighted 
like a feather, the image of serenity and repose. 
Sometimes he was seized with this sort of fury 
of play when out of his cage, and then he flung 
himself about the room in the same frantic 
manner, scarcely touching a perch, diving under 
a table, between the rounds of a chair, over a 
gas-fixture, behind and through any openings he 



NOT MALICE BUT MISCHIEF. 93 

could find. Should some bird in the room dis- 
approve of this behavior, and scold, as the finch 
was quite apt to do, the mocking-bird instantly 
alighted beside him, humped his back till he 
looked deformed, sidled two or three steps to- 
wards him, stopped, and stared at his critic ; then 
two or three steps more, stopping again, and in 
every way acting more like a mischievous mon- 
rhan a bird, till the astonished finch was 
reduced to silence, and as meek as poor Mrs. 
Quilp before the antics of her malicious little 
ise. 
In all these actions, even in his contests with 
oom-mates, no anger ever appeared on the 
part of the mocking-bird: everything seemed 
done to amuse himself and pass away the weary 
hours, rather than from desire to hurt his neigh- 
In fact, he never did positively touch a 
bird, to my knowledge, though he always acted 
as though he intended to annihilate them. He 
could hardly be called malicious ; rather (shall 
y '! ) mischievous, and like Ariel " a tricksy 
spirit." 



THE "WISE BLUEBIRD." 



i 



Never was sweeter music — 

Sunshine turned into song. 
To set us dreaming of summer, 

When the days and the dreams are long. 

Winged lute that we call a bluebird, 

You blend in a silver strain 
The sound of the laughing waters, 

The patter of spring's sweet rain, 
The voice of the wind, the sunshine, 

And fragrance of blossoming things. 
Ah ! you are a poem of April, 

That God endowed with wings. 

Eben. E. Rexford. 



V. 

THE "WISE BLUEBIRD. 



" A wise bluebird 
Puts in his little heavenly , vvord." 

THB characteristic air and expression of the 
bluebird, and his enchanting little warble, could 
not be better described in a page of writing than 
the poet has here done in a couplet. 

Who has not seen him in his favorite resting- 
place, the lowest branch of an apple-tree, stand- 
ing up very straight, crown feathers erected, 
honest little countenance squarely facing one, 
motionless and silent, looking the embodiment 
of wisdom ! 

A pair of bluebirds lived in my house for 
near] r, and the calm, imposing manner 

of the male I have never seen disturbed. In 
the presence of birds much larger than himself 
he never lost his equanimity, paid not the 
slightest attention to any one, went about his 
daily duties and pleasures exactly as though 
were not another bird, except his mate, 



98 PROTECTING HER SPOUSE. 

in the room. Quite otherwise was his little 
spouse : quick, nervous, easily frightened, yet 
assuming the responsibility of everything, even 
her lord's comfort and safety. Her very atti- 
tude was different ; she held her body horizon- 
tal, never perpendicular, as he did; and she 
was more lively in movement. She was a 
brave little soul, too. Even when greatly 
annoyed by a larger bird, she never failed to 
stand upon the defensive, open her mouth, and 
sometimes remonstrate in low, gentle talk. 
Nor did she — after she felt at home — allow a 
stranger to enter her door. She boldly faced 
the largest bird in the room, and always forced 
him to retire, while her mate stood calm and cool 
and " wise," on the upper perch. More than 
this, she seemed to feel it part of her duty to 
defend and protect his lordship, as though he 
were too fragile to come into contact with the 
rough side of life. Nothing could be droller 
than to see her stand guard while he bathed in 
the common dish on the table, and fly furiously 
at the grosbeak, or any bird coming too near her 
precious idol, who meanwhile placidly pro- 
ceeded with his bath in the most matter-of-fact 
manner, as though expecting to be protected. 
I have seen similar conduct in a wild pair : the 
female defending her nestlings against some 
fancied danger, scolding, flying around the 



AN IMPRUDENT BABY. 99 

intruder, and taking the whole care upon her- 
self ; while her spouse occupied the topmost 
twig of the tree on which his family was in 
trouble, uttering at short intervals his musical 
cry of distress, one rich, loud note. 

I did, however, on one occasion see a male 
bluebird excited in the defense of his young. 
It was in North Carolina, where a nestling 
chanced to alight on the favorite resting-place 
of a mocking-bird, and the latter a moment 
afterward came to his usual perch not a foot 
from the wild-eyed youngster. Then arose a 
great outcry from both bluebirds, and one after 
the other swooped down at that mocking-bird, 
coming so near I thought thev must hit him. 
Again and again they returned to the charge 
with loud cries, while the mocking-bird stood 
quiet, crouched as though to dash into the 
little one, and jerking wings and tail in a 
wicked manner. It lasted but a moment, for 
the nestling itself was scared and flew to an- 
other branch, upon which the attack came to 
an end, and the mother went to the baby, but 
the fa; <>d on a perch near the enemy, 

and Boolded for some time. 

Perha] idividual bluebird had learned 

to family defense, for they had 

other troubles. The nest was in an unsafe 
spot, the hollow dead limb of a tall pine-tree, 



100 A BLUEBIRD TRAGEDY. 

about seventy feet above the ground. The 
opening was in the lower side of the sloping 
branch, making it very easy for a nestling to 
fall out, and that is what I think happened the 
day before the little scene above described. 

Hearing cries of distress from the pine 
grove, I hastened down to see if I could be of 
any assistance. Both bluebirds were on a low 
tree, about a foot apart, uttering constantly 
the mournful notes I had heard. Evidently a 
tragedy of some sort had occurred, and I thought 
at once of a falling little one. I looked carefully 
around the tree while the parents came down 
near me, much disturbed. I found nothing, but 
a gale was blowing and a little bird might 
easily have been driven far away. It was a 
serious matter plainly, for the cries went on 
without intermission the rest of the day. 

During that time I saw a curious and inter- 
esting attempt at consolation on the part of the 
male. He flew away, and returned in a few 
moments with something in his beak. Alight- 
ing near his mate, he began a low, tender 
twitter, at the same time offering the morsel to 
her. She moved a few inches away ; he fol- 
lowed, still coaxing. She flew to another 
branch, refusing to look at it. He followed, 
still asking her to accept it. At last she flew 
away, and he seemed astounded, stood as if he 






A TENDER PAIR. 101 

did not know what to do next, hesitated sev- 
eral minutes, when a bright thought seemed to 
strike him, and lie carried it to the nest. 

The pair in my room were a most affectionate 
and gentle couple ; no disputes, not even the 
smallest difference, arose between them. If 
one wished to bathe while the other was using 
the bath-tub, he stood on the edge till his turn 
came. In the same way one usually waited for 
the other to finish a lunch before going down 
himself, though on rare occasions they descended 

gether for a social meal. If she were alarmed, 
and went to the floor, as at first sometimes hap- 
pened, he at once appeared in the door, looking 
anxiously after her, and calling tenderly. If 
she did not return, he flew down himself, ran 
about till he found her, and, after talking in a 
low tone for some time, started for home, when 
she followed him, showing that she was reas- 
sured. They always sat on the same perch, 
and on cool days as near each other as possible, 
first one and then the other u hitching" a little 
nearer. After bathing they sunned themselves 
together, even when in the cage, where the sun- 
shine came only into one corner, and they 

vrded bo closely that there was not room to 
spread out. Even that discomfort never elicited 
a harsh word, though he enjoyed spreading 
himself very completely, bending his legs, rest- 



102 SHE NIPPED HIS TOES. 

ing his breast on the floor, and opening his 
wings to their full extent. 

This bird's anxiety when his mate was out 
of his sight did not, however, compare with her 
unrest in his absence, for her affection seemed 
to be of the motherly or protecting sort. Be- 
fore they became familiar with the room, and 
learned that, though unseen, the partner was 
not lost, the moment he disappeared from view 
she began running around the cage excitedly, 
looking everywhere, and calling loudly. At first 
he answered, but, deciding to try his wings, he 
swept around the room, came — as some birds 
do — against the window, and fell to the floor, 
when instantly both were perfectly silent. She 
looked out apprehensively, and as soon as he 
recovered breath he flew to the top of their own 
cage. Then her solicitude turned to annoyance ; 
she went to the top perch, and gently nipped his 
toes (which she never did to strangers) as a 
slight reproof. He became accustomed to going 
out and in sooner than his mate, for she was shy 
and inclined to stay at home, and she suffered 
much anxiety ; before long she too grew accus- 
tomed to freedom, and expressed no further 
fears when he was out. 

Making arrangements for the night was an 
interesting event in bluebird life. They always 
selected the highest perch in the darkest end 



GOING TO BED. 103 

of the cage, and placed themselves so close 
■ther that they looked like a wide ball, or 
liar had been almost pressed into one 
when in a \ ate. In the morning the 

fea I ) next the mate were crushed 

. requiring much shaking and dressing to 
hem their ordinary appearance. What 
was he female took the outside, no 

ibt with the motherly motive of taking care 
of him. To see them settle themselves was 
ag. Being more quiet and less nervous 
than his spot singer generally retired 

first, some time before she was ready, and com- 
posed himself in a moment in his corner, for 
they were never restless at evening ; she fol- 
ded when she chose. Occasionally, however, 
she went first, taking her place about as far as 
\al from the wires, and leaving space for 
him. But if he went to his place, there was 
not room to turn around, facing the middle of 
the as was their custom ; and he seemed 

to appreciate the difficulty, for he hopped up 
on the outsidt . side of her. In- 

ntly she jumped to a lower perch, when he 
up to his regular place, and she at once 
md took her usual position beside 
:u. One night tag startled them, and 

both 1: i!y around the cage. I produced 

a light to show them the perches, so they might 



104 A QUEER LITTLE TALK. 

quiet themselves again. The male readily did 
so, but she remained on the lower perch. I 
went close to the wires and began to speak 
soothingly, to calm her, and induce her to 
resume her place, when, to my surprise, she 
began to reply to me, every time I spoke, stand- 
ing less than a foot from me. She stared me 
full in the face, not at all disturbed, and 
answered every word I said with her musical 
call, in a low tone, as if to tell me the story of 
the fright. We kept up the queer little chat 
for several minutes, and she did not return to 
his side that night. 

One advantage of studying two birds of a 
kind at the same time is to observe the talk 
between them, which has great interest for me. 
This pair were exceedingly talkative at first, 
uttering not only the usual musical three-syl- 
lable warble or call, which Lanier aptly calls 
the " heavenly word," but often soft twittering 
prattle, of varying inflection and irregular 
length, which was certainly the most interest- 
ing bird-talk I ever heard. When they could 
not see me they indulged in it more freely, 
with changing tones at different times, and 
after they became accustomed to the room and 
its inhabitants it was neither so frequent nor so 
earnest. Often at night, when one — perhaps 
in a dream — fell off the perch, I heard much 



BIRD TALK. 105 

low, tender talk, almost in a whisper, before all 
quiet again ; and when another bird flew 
wildly around the room, there was always a 
remark or two in an interested tone. The 
male did most of the talking, carrying on, often 
for a long time, a constant How of what sounded 
marvelously like comments and criticisms, 
while his mate replied occasionally with the 
I call. Certain notes plainly had a specific 
meaning, even to the others in the room. One 
in particular was peculiar and low, but upon 
knee every bird became instantly silent 
and looked at the cage, while the bluebirds 
themselves were so absorbed, gazing apparently 
into blank space, that I could easily put my 
hands on them before they observed me. For 
several minutes this low note would be repeated, 
and all the birds stare at nothing, till I began 
to feel almost uncomfortable, as I have done at 
similar staring at nothing on the part of ani- 
One can hardly resist the feeling that 
these creatures can see something invisible to 
our eyes. On on -ion, when the male ut- 

. the female was just about to 
od as if petrified, with head half- 
vn to the food, for two or three min- 
utes. 

What I have called talk was a very low 
twitter in a conversational tone, on one note, 



106 DISAGREEMENT IN TEE FAMILY. 

not at all in a singing tone, like the usual 
warble or call. I have also heard it from wild 
bluebirds, when I could get near enough. From 
the first, as said above, the male did most of 
the talking, and the habit grew upon him, till 
he became a regular babbler, standing on the 
top perch, and keeping it up persistently all 
day long. I think it arose from the fact that 
the greater number of birds in the room were 
thrushes, who sang very softly, without open- 
ing the mouth. With this gentle ripple of 
song the bluebird's voice harmonized perfectly, 
and he almost entirely discontinued his lovely 
song, while indulging himself in talk by the 
hour. Strange to say, I soon noticed that his 
mate did not approve of it, and would not 
stand on the perch beside him while he con- 
tinued it. At first she turned sharply towards 
him, and he showed that he understood her 
wishes by ceasing for a while ; but as the habit 
grew, and he was not so easily silenced, she 
more and more deserted his side, and after two 
or three weeks I heard occasionally a gentle re- 
monstrance from her. I do not believe a really 
harsh tone can come from a bluebird throat. 
One day they were taking their usual midday 
nap on the same perch, when a thrush across 
the window began his low song. That started 
the bluebird, and he added his chatter, which 



DEMANDING MEALWORMS. 107 

awakened his mate. She endured it for about 
five seconds, and then she suddenly stretched 
the wing nearest him so far that he was obliged 
to move away, when she instantly hopped down 
herself. 

The two bluebirds differed in intelligence. 
The female was quicker to take an idea, but 
the male sooner conquered his fear. The first 
time I offered mealworms to them she was so 
lively as to secure more than her share ; but 
he learned in a day or two that worms were to 
be had outside, especially on my desk, when he 
at once flew over to me and demanded them, in 
the funniest little defiant way, looking at me 
most significantly, and wiping his bill ostenta- 
tiously, then jerking himself with great show 
of impatience. Words could not be plainer. 
Neither of them had difficulty in telling me 
their food-dish was empty ; they stood on the 
edge and looked at me, then scraped the bill 
several times, making much noise about it, then 
looked at me again. I knew in a moment, the 
first time, what they wanted. When the male 
found out that another bird alighted on a stick 
I held out to him, and was carried off upon it, 
he seemed to be seized with curiosity, and the 
next time I offered it he jumped upon it be- 
side the other, and allowed himself to be lifted 
to the desk. At one time, in flying around, he 



108 A SAUCY THICK. 

caught his feet in the coarse net curtains I hung 
before the windows to keep strange birds from 
trying to fly out. I went at once to him and 
took him off. He scolded, fluttered, and 
pecked, and, when I had released him, flew 
directly against another curtain and caught 
again. I went over to him, and this time he 
understood that I was helping him ; he neither 
struggled nor pecked, and flew quietly when I 
set him free. 

The bluebird never showed any curiosity 
about the room or the world outside the win- 
dows, but sat on his door perch for hours, with 
a sharp eye to the worm supply. The appear- 
ance of the cup that held them was a signal for 
him to come down and beg for them, but his 
little mate never dared trust herself on the 
desk, though when I threw a worm on the floor 
she invariably secured it. So fond was she of 
this delicacy that she once played a saucy trick 
upon a scarlet tanager. Having received a 
worm, he went into the first open door he saw, 
— which happened to be the bluebird's, — to 
find a place to manipulate the morsel, which he 
never swallowed whole. Madam stood on the 
perch just above the entrance, and as he came 
in she leaned over and snatched it out of his 
mouth, swallowed it, wiped her bill, and turned 
to him, ready for another. His stare of blank 






FANXING HERSELF DRY. 109 

amazement was amusing to see, but he quickly 
made up his mind that it was not a safe place 
to eat, and when I gave him another he went 
to the roof of the same cage. She instantly 
mounted the top perch, put up her bill and 
seized the worm ; but he held on, dragged it 
away, and then retired to his own cage with it. 
She positively could not resist this temptation, 
and even from her own cherished spouse she 
would sometimes snatch the desired tidbit. 

The bluebirds' method of bathing differed 
from any I have noticed. They put the head 
under water, and held it there, while spattering 
vigorously with wings and tail. On leaving the 
bath the female fanned herself dry, holding 
tightly to the perch and beating her wings with 
violence, while dancing back and forth the 
whole length of the perch, in a bewitching man- 
ner. Her mate fanned himself also, adding a 
very pretty lateral shake of the wings, and rais- 
ing the feathers on the crown and throat till he 
looked twice as big as usual. But he was very 
fond of sunning himself dry, in the attitude al- 
ready spoken of. That position, by the way, 
was a not unusual one with him; he often 
hopped the length of three feet before a blind 
which stood against the wall, his legs bent, 
head nearly touching the floor, and tail thrust 
almost straight up. A droll figure he made. 



110 BLUEBIRD COURTSHIP. 

After hopping to the end of the blind, he would 
dash around behind it, as if he expected or 
hoped to find something. 

After moulting, the birds feathered out beau- 
tifully, and their spirits rose in proportion. 
They delighted in flight, making long, sweep- 
ing circles around the room, again and again, 
without stopping. A few weeks later, as spring 
approached, they grew somewhat belligerent 
towards the other inhabitants of the place ; 
driving every bird away from their cage, even 
following them to their chosen resting-places, 
insisting on their right to every perch in the 
room. Then, too, began signs of courtship be- 
tween the lovely pair. The first thing I noticed 
was at worm-feeding time. One day I had 
given each of them their portion. The female 
swallowed hers instantly, and I turned to an- 
other cage, when I heard a low, coaxing cry 
many times repeated. I looked around. The 
male stood on the upper perch, still holding his 
worm, which he usually dispatched as quickly 
as his mate did hers ; and she was on a lower 
perch, looking up at him, mouth open, wings 
fluttering, asking for it. While I looked, he 
hopped down beside her, she opened her mouth 
wide, and he fed her as if she were a nestling. 
He was more amiable than a wild bluebird I 
once saw, who had brought up a long earth- 



REFUSED TO SHARE. Ill 

worm, and was beating it on the top of a post 
preparatory to swallowing it, when his little 
spouse — who was sitting at the time — came 
to the fence rail below him, and asked in the 
same way for a bit. So far from sharing it with 
her, this greedy bird simply took a fresh hold 
of his prize, flew to a tree, and gobbled it down 
with difficulty himself. Not so my generous 
captive. The next day he complied with her 
request again, and after that it was he who did 
the tender coaxing, begging her to accept the 
slight offering of his love. Soon, too, she grew 
coquettish in manner, often turned a cold shoul- 
der to him, opened her mouth at him, and 
scolded in the sweetest and softest voice ; and 
one night, after they had settled on their perch, 
I heard gentle talk, and saw a little peck or 
two on her part. He did the talking, and she 
delivered the playful peck or push as reply. 
Now, too, in his desire to manifest his affection, 
he could not always wait for worms, but picked 
dainty bits from the food-dish, and tendered 
them in the same pretty way. She always ac- 
cepted, though often she went at once to the 
food-dish and ate for herself ; for with all this 
itiment and love-making her appetite did not 
fail. Once she was outside and he inside the 
cage, when he began to call and offer her some- 
thing out of his mouth. She did not wish to 



112 ATTACKED BY TRAMPS. 

go in, so she flew to a perch that ran through 
the cage, and stood close to the wires, while he 
went to the same perch inside, and fed her 
through the wires. 

About this time, too, the bluebird talk nearly 
ceased, and instead of it the lovely song of three 
notes was heard all day, and a little change they 
made in it — throwing in a " grace note" be- 
tween the second and third — greatly added to 
its charm. Now, too, spring had really come, 
and I waited only for warm days to let them go 
and set up their homestead in freedom. The first 
mild day in May the window was opened for 
them. The female flew first to a tree in front 
of the house, where she was greeted in the rud- 
est manner by the bird-tramps which infest our 
streets, — the house-sparrows. They began to 
assemble around her, no doubt prepared for at- 
tack, when she gave a loud cry of distress, and 
out flew her valiant knight to her aid. After a 
moment's pause by her side, they both flew, and 
we saw the gentle pair no more. 

This true chronicle began with a quotation 
from Lanier ; it shall end with one from Har- 
riet Prescott Spofford : — 

" A bit of heaven itself, he flew, 
When earth seemed heaven with bees and bloom, 
South wind, and sunshine, and perfume ; 
And morning were not morn without him. 

Winging, springing, always flinging, 

Flinging music all about him. ,, 



THE GOLDEN-WING. 



The high-hole flashing his golden wings. 

Walt Whitman. 



VI. 
THE GOLDEN-WING. 



One of the special objects of my search dur- 
ing a certain June among the hills of northern 
New York was a nest of the golden-winged 
woodpecker ; not that it is rare or hard to find, 
but because I had never seen one and had read 
attractive stories of the bird's domestic rela- 
tions, the large number of young in the nest, 
and his devotion and pride. Moreover, I had 
become greatly interested in the whole family, 
through my attachment to an individual mem- 
ber of it in my own house. 

I soon discovered that the orchard at the 
back r,f the house was visited every day by a 
of the birds I was seeking. One was seen 
running up and down a trunk of a large poplar- 
I the next morning two alighted on a 
uch at the top of an apple-tree, perch- 
other birds on twigs, which Beemed too 
bear their weight. But they were ap- 
parently satisfied with them ; for they stayed 



116 SEARCHING THE WOODS. 

some time, pluming themselves and evidently 
looking with interest and astonishment at human 
intruders into what had no doubt been a favorite 
haunt of their own. I watched them for sev- 
eral minutes, till a sudden noise startled the 
shy creatures and they were off in an instant. 

After that I saw them often at the bottom 
of the orchard. They always flew over the 
place with rather a heavy business-like flight, 
alighted on a low branch of the farthest apple- 
tree, and in a moment dropped to the ground 
where the long grass hid them. There they 
remained five minutes or more before returning 
to the tree. Unfortunately it was a little far- 
ther than I could readily see with my glass, and 
the most cautious approach alarmed them. I 
heard them call nearly every day in loud, 
strong voice, " Pe-auk ! pe-auk ! " 

Being thus baffled in my plan of following 
them home, I resolved upon a regular search in 
the small piece of woods where they always 
disappeared, and every morning I spent two or 
three hours in that lovely spot looking for any 
birds, but especially for the Golden-wing. In 
all my search, however, I found but one nest, 
which may have been his, where apparently a 
tragedy had occurred ; for from the edge of the 
opening the bark was torn off down the trunk, 
and in two or three places holes were picked 



GETTING ACQUAINTED. 117 

as though to reach the nest which had been 
within. 

Whatever the drama enacted in that mys- 
terious home, I was too late to see, and I have 
not been able as yet to make close acquaintance 
with the free Golden-wing. 

The bird that had so interested me in his 
whole family I found in a bird store in New 
York in the month of November. He was a 
most disconsolate-looking object, and so pain- 
fully wild I could scarcely bear to look at him 
— poor, shy, frightened soul, set up in a cage to 
be stared at. I rescued him at once with the 
intention of giving him a more retired home, 
and freedom the moment spring opened. The 
change did not at first reassure him, and he 
was so frantic that his cage was covered to 
shut out the sights till he was accustomed to 
sounds of a household. Gradually, an 
inch or two at a time, the cover that hid the 
1 from him was reduced, till at the end of 
tlnv. he could endure the removal of the 

last corner will ng absolutely mad. 

day an opening a few inches 

was left in his screen, so that he might 

if he chose, and I took my seat as far 

rom him, with my back to him, and 

a hai Qged that I could see him. 

As s< the room was quiet he went to the 



118 PEEPING AT ME. 

opening and cautiously thrust his long bill and 
his head as far as the eye beyond the edge so 
that he could see me. I kept perfectly still, 
while he watched me several minutes with evi- 
dent interest, and I was glad to see that it was 
simply fright and not idiocy that caused his 
panics. 

Many emotions of the bird were most com- 
ically expressed by hammering. In embarrass- 
ment or alarm, when not so great as to drive 
him wild, he resorted to that diversion, and the 
more disturbed, the louder and faster his 
blows. If in utter despair, as when I set his 
house in order for the day, he dropped to the 
floor on the farthest side, put his head in the 
corner, and pounded the tray with great vio- 
lence. Every wire in the cage in turn he tested 
with taps of his beak, thus amusing himself 
hours at a time, sitting, as was his custom, 
crouched upon the perch or on the floor. In 
this way, too, he tried the quality of the plas- 
tered wall behind his cage, and was evidently 
pleased to find it yielding, for he bored many 
holes and tore off much paper, before he was 
discovered and provided with a background of 
wood to exercise upon. 

The unhappy bird had a serious time learn- 
ing to eat mocking-bird food with his long, 
curved beak ; he never became very expert at it, 



TURNED HIS BACK. 119 

but was as awkward as a child learning to feed 
If. He first thrust it like a dagger its whole 
length into his dish, took out a mouthful, then 
turned his head sidewise, shook it and snapped 
his bill le and the other, making a noise 

if choking. When this performance was 
over, lie Bcraped his beak against the wires and 
the fragments daintily with the tip. 
When he had eaten he left a straight, smooth 
hole in the food, like a stab, two inches deep 
and perhaps half an inch in diameter. In 
drinking lie made the same movements, filling 
. throwing back his head, and swallow- 
All of the Golden-wing's attitudes were pe- 
cul instance, he never liked to face 

• *. but always turned his back upon spectators 
1 at them over his shoulder. In 
sleeping he changed his position often, and was 
38 as a nervous old man. Sometimes 
it on the perch, puffed out into a ball like 
other birds, head buri«'d in his feathers, tail 
br. d and curled under the perch, as 

• t hing t<> rest against. If 
; (or unrest) in this 
u in a few hours be would drop heavily 
r, scramble about a little, and then 
climb to one of tie ; - that kept the wires 

in place, ten inches from the hottom of the 






120 A SOUND SLEEPER. 

cage. There he settled himself comfortably, 
head buried again, tail pressed against the wires, 
and looking more like a spot on the wall than 
a bird. 

He often took naps in the daytime on the 
floor with his head in the corner, like a bad boy 
in punishment, his head drawn down into his 
shoulders and his bill thrust up into the air at 
an angle of forty-five degrees. If this tired 
him, he simply turned his bill down at about 
the same angle, and tried it that way awhile. 

He was an exceedingly early bird, always 
settled to sleep long before any other in the 
room, and he slept very soundly, being not 
easily wakened and breathing in long, steady 
respirations like a person in sleep. Indeed he 
startled me very much the first time I noticed 
him. The breathing was regular and strong, 
equal in duration to my own as I listened, and 
I was sure some one was in the room. I has- 
tened to light the gas to look for the burglar, 
and it was not until I had made thorough 
search that I discovered who was the guilty 
one. He dreamed also, if one may judge by 
the sounds that came from his cage at night, 
complaining, whining, almost barking like the 
" yaps " of a young puppy, and many sorts of 
indescribable noises. 

The Golden- wing was extremely fond of 



E. HIMSELF UP. 121 

hanging against the side of his cage on the 

support spoken Not only did he 

i in that position, but dress his plumage, 

turning I ver his body and sides, 

and even arranging the tVathers of his breast, 

each oik* by itself, with scrupulous care. Like 

many others this bird objected to having his 

- a perch by his neighbors. lie 

1 his sentiments by quick jerks, first of 

J lers and then of the whole body, and 

if the intruder did not take the hint, he opened 

normous bill and took hold of a stray toe, 

which usually drove away the most imperti- 

,t. 

The door of the cage was opened to my cap- 
tive as soon as he became quiet and happy 
within it. After his first surprise and dismay 
at finding himself in the big world again, he 
enjoyed it very much. Being unable to fly 
of some wing feathers, his cage 
D the Boor, and he ran in and out 
at p! He was more than usually intelli- 

itlt it, too; for although the door was 
small, and 1 to lower hifl head to 

thro an instant. 

Ling that sh 
and that I h er seen any two do in ex- 

tra when 
ased from a cage. This bird, like his 



122 A DROLL PATTER OF FEET. 

predecessors, had his own peculiar notion, 
which was to go behind everything. He 
squeezed himself between a trunk, or a heavy- 
piece of furniture, and the wall, where it did 
not seem possible that one of his size could 
pass, and showed so great an inclination to go 
through a hole in the open-work fire-board that 
I hastily covered it up. After a while he tested 
the matting and carefully investigated, by light 
taps of his bill, each separate nail. His step 
was heavy, and he did not hop, but ran around 
with a droll little patter of the feet, like a 
child's footsteps. 

Having exhausted the novelty of the floor, he 
turned his eyes upward, perhaps noticing that 
the other birds were higher in the room, where 
they had taken refuge when he made his sudden 
and somewhat alarming appearance among 
them. He did not try to fly, but he was not 
without resources ; he could jump, and no one 
could outdo him in climbing, or in holding on. 
After a moment's apparent consideration of the 
means at his command, he ran to the corner 
and mounted a trunk by springing up halfway, 
holding on a moment in some mysterious man- 
ner, and then by a second jump landing on top. 
Prom that point it was easy to reach the bird's 
table, and there was a ladder placed for the ben- 
efit of another that could not fly. This ladder 



U8INQ THE LADDER. 123 

be at once pounced upon, and used as if he had 
practiced on one all his life. 

1 shut the cage-door at the upper end to keep 
him out of his neighbor's house, while the 
owner, an American wood-thrush, stood upon 
the roof, looking ruefully at this appropriation 
of his private property. Upon reaching the 
1 door the traveler jumped across to an- 
other rage nearly a foot away. This was a 
small affair occupied by an English goldfinch, 
who was then at home and not pleased by the 
call, as he at once made known. Golden-wing, 
however, perhaps with the idea of returning 
insults from the saucy little finch, jerked 
• If all around the cage, inserting his long 
bill as though trying to reach something inside. 
Having wearied of annoying the enemy, he 
sprang back to the ladder, descended by the 
table and trunk to the floor as he had gone up, 
without a moment's hesitation as to the way, 
which proved him to possess unusual intelli- 
He did not take the trouble to climb 
:, hut put his two feet together and jumped 
a child, a very odd movement for 
a bird. It was his constant habit in the cage 
tojn: irch to the floor, and from 

a above the tray he often 
rards, which I never before 
saw a bird i 



124 ASKING TO HAVE THE DOOR OPENED. 

When after three hours of exploration he 
returned to his home, the door was closed and 
the cage hung up. He was satisfied with his 
first outing, and refreshed himself with a nap 
at once. But the first thing the next morning 
he came down to his door and pecked the wires, 
looking over at me most intelligently, plainly 
asking to have it opened. He never mistook 
the position of the door, and if knocking had 
not the desired effect, he took hold of a wire 
and shook and rattled it till he was attended to. 

It was interesting to see how familiar he sud- 
denly became, when no effort had been made 
to induce him to be so. I never had so much 
trouble to win the confidence of a bird, but 
when won, the surrender was complete. He 
came up to me freely and allowed me to catch 
him in my hand without resistance, which is 
very uncommon. (Perhaps I ought to say that 
I do not try to tame my birds.) He displayed 
a child-like, confiding disposition, both in his 
unreasoning terror at first, and his unquestion- 
ing faith at last. 

These investigations were conducted without 
a sound, for the bird was entirely silent while 
awake. But there came a day when he made 
a curious exhibition of his ability. It was the 
ninth of February, and the goldfinch was call- 
ing, as he often did. The woodpecker sat on 



A QUEER LITTLE SOXG. V25 

his perch with wings held tightly against his 
sides, "humped" up as though he were high- 
shouldered. The plumage of his breast was 
puffed out so broadly that it came over the 
wings, and in a front view completely hid them, 
while the feathers of his shoulders were erected 
till he resembled a lady with a fur shoulder 
cape. Withal, his head was drawn down to 
his body, and his beak pointed upward at an 
angle of forty-rive degrees. In this peculiar 
and absurd position he began a strange little 
song, ludicrously weak and low for a bird of 
his size. The tones were delivered in a sharp 
staccato style, like " picking " the strings of a 

lin very softly, several notes uttered with 
queer sidewise jerks of the head, and eyes ap- 
parently fixed on the gold-finch. After a 
phrase or two he scraped his bill violently and 
then began again. 

This performance he varied by bowing his 
head many times, swaying his whole body from 
side to side, flirting his tail and shaking his 
wings. I* n extraordinary display, but 

whether his manner of making himself agree- 
able, or of expressing contempt, I could only- 
guess. T : inch looked on with interest, 
though I tli ink be understood it no better than 
I did; he seemed surprised, but rather pleased, 
for lie repeated his calls, and the (rolden-wing 
I np the strange exhibition for some time. 



126 A GOLDEN-WING BABY. 

I became greatly attached to my beautiful 
bird, which appeared, in the presence of his 
wise and wary room-mates, cat-birds and 
thrushes, like a big, clumsy, but affectionate 
baby. It was solely on his account and prin- 
cipally, I must confess, to try and surprise a 
wild bird at the above described entertainment 
so as to determine its character, that I wished 
to make acquaintance with its free relations, 
study their ways when at liberty in their own 
haunts, and have a glimpse if possible of the 
Golden-wing babies. 

A year later I had the opportunity I so much 
desired of making acquaintance with the young 
of this family. I was sitting one morning on 
the edge of a deep ravine filled with trees, 
deeply engaged in the study of another bird, 
when suddenly a stranger came with an awk- 
ward flop against the trunk of a tree not ten 
feet from me. I saw in an instant that it was 
the infant I had looked for so long. He was 
exactly like the parents, with a somewhat 
shorter tail. I should hardly have suspected 
his youthfulness but for his clumsy movements, 
and the fact that he did not at once take flight, 
which a Golden-wing more experienced in the 
ways of human-kind would have done instantly. 
He seemed somewhat exhausted by his flight, 
and clung to the trunk, with soft dark eyes 
fixed upon me, ready to move if I did. 



TAKING A NAP. 127 

I did not : I sat motionless for half an hour 
and watched him. When somewhat rested he 
dodged around the other side of the trunk, and 

eped at me through a fork in the branches. 
Then he scrambled upon a small branch, where 
he perched crosswise. But he had trouble to 
keep his balance in that position, so he climbed 

>ut til] he found a limb fully two inches in 
dia n which he could rest in the favorite 

ker attitude — lengthwise. Then with his 

head outward to the world at large, and his 

indifferently toward me, — whom he 

doubtl irded as a permanent and lifeless 

6 landscape, — he settled himself, 

ached i; inst the bark, for a comfortable 

All this time I had been conscious of low 
[den-wing talk about me ; the familiar " wick- 
up ! wick-op ! M almost in a whisper, a softened 
u pe-auk!" from the ravine, and the more dis- 
tal J)/* bo called. The infant on the 
I too. He moved his head, listened 
• whether or not they were words 
of can: ■•• from the wiser ones of 
1 to be : ted and did not 
rill I rose to leave him. when, greatly 
k flight across the ravine. 



A STORMY WOOING. 



Not an inch of his body is free from delight, 

Can he keep himself still if he would ? Oh, not he ! 

The music stirs in him like wind through a tree. 

Wordsworth. 



VII. 

A STORMY WOOING. 



If, as Raskin says, "the bird is little more 
than a drift of the air, brought into form by 
plumes," the particular bit shaped into the 
form we call the orchard oriole must be a breath 
from a Western tornado, for a more hot-headed, 
blustering individual would be hard to find ; 
and when this embodied hurricane, this " drift" 
of an all-destroying tempest, goes a-wooing, 
strange indeed are the ways he takes to win 
his mate, and stranger still the fact that he does 
win her in spite of his violence. 

In a certain neighborhood, where I spent 
some time in the nesting season, studying a 
bird of vastly different character, orchard ori- 
oles were numerous, and in their usual fashion 
made their presence known by persistent sing- 
ing around the house. For it must be admitted, 
whatever their defects of temper or manners, 
that they are most cheerful in song, the female no 

18 than the male. First of the early morning 
bird chorus comes their song, loud, rich, and oft- 



132 NOT TO BE OVERLOOKED. 

repeated, though marred in the case of the male 
by the constant interpolation of harsh, scolding 
notes. Anywhere, everywhere, all day, in pour- 
ing rain, in high wind that silences nearly every 
bird voice, the orioles sing. One could not 
overlook them if he wished, so noisy, so restless, 
and so musical. Nor do they care to be un- 
seen ; they make no attempt at concealment. 
No oriole ever steals into a neighborhood in the 
quiet way of the cat-bird, silently taking an ob- 
servation of its inhabitants before making him- 
self obvious ; on the contrary, all his deeds are 
before the public, even his family quarrels. He 
comes to a tree with a bustle, talking, scolding, 
making himself and his affairs the most con- 
spicuous things in the neighborhood. 

Many times he is most annoying. When 
following some shy bird to its nest, or moving 
down toward the grove where are the brooklet 
and the birds' bathing-place, no matter how 
quietly one may approach, footsteps deadened 
by thick sand and no rustling garments to be- 
tray, the orchard oriole is sure to know it. He 
is not the only bird to see a stranger, of course ; 
the brown thrush is as quick as he, but he 
silently drops to the ground, if not already 
there, and disappears without a sound ; the car- 
dinal grosbeak slips down from his perch on the 
farther side and takes wing near the ground ; 



BE SHOUTS THE NEWS. 133 

the cat-bird, in the center of a thick shrub, 
noiseless as a shadow, flutters across the path 
and is gone ; others do the same. The orchard 
oriole alone shouts the news to all whom it may 
concern in his loudest "chack! chack!" put- 
ting every one on his guard at once, and mak- 
ing the copse in a moment as empty as though 
no wing ever stirred its leaves. 

On first noticing the ways of the birds about 
me on the occasion mentioned, I saw that there 
was some sort of a disturbance among them ; 
scarcely ten minutes passed without a commo- 
tion, followed by a chase through the branches 
of a tree, one bird pursuing another so hotly 
that twigs bent and leaves parted as they passed, 
the one in advance often uttering a complaining 
cry, and the pursuer, a loud, harsh scold. Some- 
thing exciting was evidently going on; some 
tragedy or possibly comedy, in this extremely 
sensational family. I was at once interested to 
see what it might be and how it would end ; 
and in fact, before I knew it, I was as much 
absorbed in oriole matters as though no other 
Feathered life was to be seen. 

There were in the party two males, one in 
his second year, and therefore immature in col- 
oring, being olive-yellow on the breast, brown 
on wings and tail, with a black mask over eyes 
and chin : the other was older, and a model 



134 "WOULD WT TAKE NO, FOR AN ANSWER." 

of oriole beauty, being bright chestnut on the 
lower parts, with velvety black hood coming 
down on the breast. With them was one female, 
and though far from being friends, the three 
were never separated. The trouble seemed to be 
that both males were suitors, and notwithstand- 
ing the pretty little maid appeared to have a 
mind of her own and to prefer the younger of 
her wooers, the older plainly refused " to take 
no for an answer," and was determined to have 
his own way, bringing to bear on his courtship 
all the persistence of his race. In that particu- 
lar quality of never giving up what he has set 
his heart on, the oriole cannot be excelled, if 
indeed he can be equaled in the bird world ; 
for a time, and a long time, too, he is a bird of 
one idea, and by fair means or foul he will al- 
most certainly accomplish his desire, whatever 
it may be. 

Life never grew dull in the party mentioned ; 
they were always talking, singing, or going for 
each other in the mad way already described. 
Sometimes the chase was between the males, 
but oftener the female flew for her life appar- 
ently, while the rough wooer followed closely 
with great noise and confusion. The affair 
ended occasionally with a cry of distress as 
though somebody was pecked, but several times 
she stood at bay and defied him with mouth 



TOO MANY WOOERS. 135 

open, feathers bristled up, wings fluttering, and 
every way quite ready to defend herself. Like 
other blusterers, on the first show of fight he 
calmed down, and the matter ended for the time. 
Peace lasted from ten to twenty minutes, dur- 
ing which they hopped about the tree, or hung 
head-downward on the Spanish moss, talking 
in low tones, though the male never omitted 
delivering a scolding note with every two or 
three pleasant ones, Her voice was charming, 
in a tender call, a gentle chatter, or a sweet 
song, unspoiled by the harsh tones of her part- 
ner. She was also a very pretty bird, bright 
yellow below, olive-yellow on the back, no 
black about the face, and legs and feet blue as 
the sky, and she was as graceful as she was 
beautiful. 

Repose of manner was unknown to the or- 
chard orioles. One was scarcely ever seen 
sitting or standing still. The song was given 
while moving, either flying or hopping about 
on the tree. If one did pause while it was ut- 
tered, the body jerked, and the head turned 
this way and that, as though he really was too 
\ to be perfectly quiet for a moment. 

The most tempestuous times were when the 
younger Buitor pat himself forward and per- 
suaded the fair yellow damsel to show him some 
slight preference. The venerable lover was not 



136 A WAR DANCE. 

slow to resent this, and to fall like a hurricane 
upon the pretender, who disappeared like a 
dead leaf before the blast, and so quickly that 
he could not be followed — at least by anything 
less rapid than wings. Once, however, I saw 
a curious affair between the two suitors which 
was plainly a war-dance. It followed closely 
upon one of the usual flurries, conducted with 
perhaps louder cries and more vehemence than 
common, and began by both birds alighting on 
the grass about a foot apart, and so absorbed 
in each other as to be utterly oblivious of a 
spectator within ten feet of them on the bal- 
cony. No tiger out of the jungle could hold 
more rage and fury than animated those feath- 
ered atoms, bristled up even to the heads, 
which looked as if covered with velvet caps. 
They paused an instant, then crouched, jerked 
their tails, " teetered " and posed in several 
attitudes, ending each new movement with a 
solemn bow, perhaps equivalent to a hand- 
shake among larger fighters. What one did 
the other exactly copied, and both seemed to 
be trying to get one side of the opponent, so as 
to secure some advantage. To prevent this, 
each kept his face to the foe, and moved as he 
moved. Thus they passed down one side, then 
back, down the other and return, neither able to 
get the slightest superiority of position. It was 



VCLGAR BROILS. 137 

extremely grotesque, and was continued several 
minutes, while I eagerly watched to see what 
would happen next. What did happen was 
entirely unexpected, a unique anti-climax, quite 
worthy of the undignified character of the bird. 
On a Budden, as by one consent, both flew oppo- 
site ways; both alighted in low trees about 
thirty feet apart, and each one sang a loud joy- 
ous song, as of victory ! 

In this turbulent way life went on for two 
or three weeks ; I could not tell how long, for it 
was in full progress when I came. There was 
always a vulgar broil, often a furious encounter, 
stopping just short of coming to blows, and it 
seemed really doubtful if the orioles would suc- 
ceed in settling their matrimonial affairs before 
summer. The third member of the belligerent 
party, the demure little object of all this agita- 
tion, was meekness and gentleness itself, never 

gressive, but always flying before the furious 

ght of her would-be spouse. Why then 

did she not select her mate and thus end the 

able, which, according to the books, it must 
do? 

Turning away from the more conspicuous 
males with their endless contests, and watching 
her closely, I saw that Bhe was trying her best 
to do so. She plainly preferred the younger 
and less quarrelsome suitor, and often followed 



138 A FEATHERED PAUL PRY. 

him off, bringing down upon herself in conse- 
quence the wrath of the elder, and instant pur- 
suit, which ended in the disappearance of her 
chosen hero, and a forced endurance of the 
tyrant's presence, till it appeared that she 
would have to " marry him to get rid of him," 
as our plain-spoken grandmothers characterized 
a similar situation in human affairs. 

When these birds could spare time from their 
own absorbing matters, they were very inquisi- 
tive in the affairs of their neighbors. After 
the mocking-bird babies were out, the orioles 
often visited them, while the parents were 
absent, for no reason that I could discover but 
to see what they were like, and how they got 
on, for nothing about them was disturbed. If, 
however, an oriole was found by one of the old 
mocking-birds perched on the edge of the nest, 
he was driven away with a piece of mocking- 
bird mind on the subject of meddlers. Like- 
wise they frequently paid visits to a nuthatch 
colony at the top of a tall pine-tree. Whether 
more aggressive among these smaller birds, or 
not, could not be seen. But the facts were 
that upon an oriole's disappearing through those 
heavy pine branches away above our heads, 
there instantly arose a great outcry in the 
querulous nuthatch voice, and the intruder re- 
turned to the lower world with some precipi- 



THE CRISIS CAME. 139 

tation, while gentle, complaining sounds came 
from the invaded territory for some time. So, 
too, in different degree the birds showed interest 
in me, peering down between the leaves of the 
tree in which they spent most of their time, 
and making remarks or expressing opinions, 
climbing — which they literally did — to the 
end of a twig, stretching up tall to look over 
the top and stare at me, or when flying slowly 
past, hovering a moment just in front of me 
with perfect fearlessness and earnest attention 
to my pursuits. 

At length the crisis in the oriole matters 
came, as come it must, and not long after the 
war-dance that has been described. The season 
was advanced and nesting time already begun. 
In fact, it was ended in several families ; mock- 
ing-birds were about ready to fly, young chip- 
ping sparrows peeped from every tuft of grass, 
baby bluebirds were trying their wings at their 
doors, the yellow-throated warbler was stuffing 
her youngsters on the next tree, and the late 
kingbirds had nearly finished their nests. 
Whether a pitched battle at last settled the 
dispute, whether the modest little dame united 
with her chosen mate against the common 
enemy, or whether perchance — though this is 
not likely — the elder bird tired of his useless 
warfare, will never be known, for the whole 



140 THE BRIDE WON. 

matter was settled before we mortals were out 
of bed, in the magic morning hours when so 
many interesting things go on in bird and beast 
life. When I came out, I saw at once that a 
decision had been reached. The younger bird 
had won his bride, and with much talk and 
love-making the happy pair were busying them- 
selves about a building spot. This first day of 
their honeymoon was not, however, very peace- 
ful ; old troubles are not so soon forgotten, and 
the discarded suitor found it hard to believe 
that the repulse was final and he really should 
not have his own way. He frequently made 
his appearance in the old scenes, making him- 
self agreeable in the usual way ; but the newly 
wedded were now a pair, and when both flung 
themselves upon him he recognized at last the 
inevitable, no longer resented it, and left them 
in peace. 

With much talk and discussion the tree that 
had been the scene of the stormy wooing was 
selected for the homestead, and the young wife 
at once set to work upon the foundation, while 
her spouse in his new r61e of lord and master 
stood on a higher twig and gave his opinions ; 
much advice, no doubt, and plenty of instruc- 
tion. I doubt his mastery, however, for I no- 
ticed that, though meek, madam had a mind 
of her own and an orchard oriole's persistence 



THEY WERE USED TO IT. 141 

in carrying out her plans. He talked, it is 
true, blustered and strutted around, but she 
worked quietly, steadily, and in a business-like 
way, utterly oblivious of him. 

During thifl day, too, even this first day, not 
five hoars after he had tried to coax the bride 
away, the elderly suitor came back from some 
unknown quarter, with a brand-new wife of his 
own ; precipitation worthy of the vulgar house- 
sparrow of our city streets, which these birds 
also resemble in their constant broils. That 
naturally put a complete end to further dispute 
over sweethearts; but they could not change 
their nature, and I observed that each young 
husband had a vast amount of fault to find, 
much scolding and grumbling. Happily it did 
seem to disconcert the little wives ; they 
sang as sweetly, and worked as steadily as 
though they were used to it, and expected noth- 
better, which was well for them. 
The elder oriole and his mate soon settled in 
her place, and I saw them no more, but I 
i see upon what tree the young pair 
led to build, for a kingbird had an unfin- 
the lower branches, and 
families so 8 ive would make a lively 

1 no doubt. Hostilities began in- 
day. Watching the oriole at 
her building, I caught the pretty innocent-look- 



142 A BIRD THIEF. 

ing creature stealing material from the king- 
bird's nest, while her virtuous spouse perched 
himself on the upper branch of the tree, exactly 
as if on the watch for returning owners. In a 
low tone he talked to her as she entered the un- 
completed nest, worked busily a moment, then 
appeared on the edge with a soft white feather, 
gathered it into a convenient shape, and flew 
with it in her beak to the upper branch. Twice 
afterward I saw that performance repeated, and 
each time it was a white feather taken. On one 
occasion the kingbird was at home. There was 
a sharp cry of distress, a bustle, and in a mo- 
ment Madam Oriole flew off with a feather, 
while the outraged owner stood on a neighbor- 
ing branch and uttered two or three plaintive 
cries. Considering the size and the belligerent 
nature of the kingbird, I was astonished, but 
exactly thus it happened. 

I greatly wished to stay and see the result, 
for I had confidence enough in the bravery of 
the kingbirds to be sure that the end was not 
yet. Also, I longed to watch the restless pair 
whose ups and downs I had found so interesting. 
I should like to see the orchard oriole in the 
r61e of a father ; a terribly fussy one he would 
be without doubt. Above all, I most desired 
to see the infant orioles, to know if they begin 
their quarrels in their narrow cradle, and if 






A QUARREL ON BAND. 143 

their first note is a scold. But the troubles of 
this courtship had, like the wars of Augustus 
and Arabella in a three-volume novel, consumed 
so much time that there was none left for post- 
nuptial chronicles, and I was obliged to leave 
them with a neighborhood quarrel on hand 
which promised full employment for the head 
of the family while his little mate was sitting. 



FLUTTERBUDGET. 



hark to the brown thrush ! hear how he sings ! 

Now he pours the dear pain of his gladness ! 
What a gush ! and from out what golden springs ! 

What a rage of how sweet madness ! 

D. A. Wasson. 






VIII. 
FLUTTERBUDGET. 



" FLUTTERBrDGET " is the one expressive 
word that exactly characterizes a certain brown 
thrush, or thrasher, the subject of a year's 
study. This bird is perhaps the only restless 
creature that bears the name of thrush, and he 
is totally unlike the rest of his family, having 
neither dignity, composure, nor repose of man- 
ner. My brown thrush, however, was exceed- 
ingly interesting in his own way, if only as a 
study of perpetual motion, of the varieties of 
shape and attitude possible to him, and the fan- 
tastic tricks upon wing of which he was capa- 
ble. One never tired of watching him, for he 
was erratic in every movement, always invent- 
ing some new sort of evolution, or a fresh way 
of doing the old tilings, and scarcely a moment 
at rest. A favorite exercise was flying across 
tli*- room, planting his feet flatly against the 
ride wall, turning instantly and flying back. 
This he often did a dozen times in succession. 



148 STRANGE USE OF THE FEET. 

His feet were always " used to save his head " 
(contrary to our grandmothers' teachings). 
When he made the usual attempt to fly through 
the window on his first outing in the room, he 
went feet first against it, and thus saved him- 
self a bumped head. His movements were ab- 
rupt in the extreme, and always so unexpected 
that he frequently threw the whole feathered 
family into a panic, apparently without the 
least intention of doing so. Standing beside the 
cage of another bird, he would wheel quickly 
and face the other way, absolutely nothing 
more, but doing this in £ manner so startling 
that the occupant of the cage scolded roundly. 
He specially delighted in clambering all over 
the cage of a goldfinch, acting as if he should 
tear it in pieces, and greatly annoying the small 
bird. He often flew up the side of the window 
casing, as though climbing it like a ladder, his 
feet touching it now and then ; and he did the 
same on the curtains of coarse net. Again he 
flew across the room before the three windows, 
turning to each one in turn, planted his feet 
squarely on the linen shade, as on the wall 
above mentioned, and without a pause passed 
to the end of the room, and touched it with his 
feet in the same strange way. Often when 
standing for the moment perfectly still before 
a window, he suddenly flew up, put both feet in 



QUEER WAYS. 149 

this unbircllike way against the window-shade, 
turned and went to his cage. In like manner 
he came in contact with a cage, the books on the 
shelves, the back of a chair, or any piece of fur- 
niture, taking from that point a new direction. 
When startled he instantly bounded into the air 
as though the ground were hot under his feet, 
and often turned a corner or two before he came 
down. In the middle of his most lovely song he 
was quite likely, without the least warning, to 
make a mad dash somewhere, turn a sharp cor- 
ner, dive in another direction, and alight on the 
spot he had left a moment before, and all in 
so spasmodic a way that every bird was panic- 
stricken. 

The thrasher was exceedingly wary, and 
nothing was droller than his manner of ap- 
proaching anything, whether a worm I had 
thrown on the matting for him, or the bathing- 
dish. In the case of the worm, the moment he 
saw his prey — which I selected for its liveli- 
ness — he came to a nearer perch, and stood 
there a few minutes, posturing, shaking his 
plumage in great excitement, looking at me and 
then at the tempting object. Very soon he 
dropped to the iloor and started towards the 

rm in the funniest way ; running a few steps, 
stopping short and turning half round, ready 
for instant flight, flirting his feathers with a 



150 SENSATIONAL MANNERS. 

great rustle, turning an anxious eye on me, then 
on the wriggling attraction, running a step or 
two, and repeating the performance. In this 
way he advanced very gradually till near 
enough to half encircle his prey ; or to run and 
hop sideways as though to describe a circle, 
turning away at each pause as before, all the 
time jerking and fluttering in intense agitation, 
and always keeping an eye on me. Not that 
he was in the least afraid of me ; it was simply 
his sensational way of doing everything. When 
he finally came within reach of the worm, he 
snatched it, and ran as though the enemy were 
upon him. 

His performances before entering the bath 
were even more amusing. The bathing-dish, a 
broad, deep plate, stood upon a towel on a ta- 
ble. The bird alighted on the table, and began 
first to peck the towel, pulling the fringe, work- 
ing at any loose thread he discovered, and in- 
dustriously enlarging any small hole he chanced 
to find. In doing thus he often turned over the 
edge, when he sprang back as though he had 
seen a ghost. Recovering from the shock, he 
circled around the dish with little hops, occa- 
sionally giving a gentle peck at the edge of the 
dish, or a snip at the water with his beak. Thus 
he waltzed around the bath perhaps forty times, 
now and then going so far as to jump up on the 



EXCITEMENT OF THE BATH. 151 

edge, make a dash at the water, and back off 
as if it were hot, or to give a hop into the mid- 
dle of the water and out again so quickly that 
one could hardly believe he touched it. When, 
after all this ceremony, he did go in to stay, he 
made most thorough work, splashing in a fran- 
tic way, as though he had but a moment to 
stay, and in one minute getting more soaked 
than many birds ever do. After this short dip 
he dashed out, flew to a perch, and in the mad- 
dest way jerked and shook himself dry ; pulling 
his feathers through his beak with a snap, and 
making a peculiar sound which I can liken only 
to the rubbing of machinery that needs oil. 

The brown thrush was never so violent and 
eccentric in movement as just after his bath. 
Allowing himself often but a moment's hasty 
shake of plumage, he darted furiously across 
the room, startling every bird, and alighting no 
one could guess where. Then, after more jerks 
and rapid shakings, he flung himself as unex- 
pectedly in another direction, while at every 
fresh turn birds scattered wildly, everywhere, 
anywhere, out of his way, bringing up in the 
most unaccustomed places; as, for instance, a 
dignified bird, who never went to the floor, 
c ming to rest under the bed, or a ground-lover 
flattened against the side of a cage. All this 
disturbance seemed to please the thrasher, for 



152 FULL OF PRANKS. 

he had a spice of mischief in his composition. 
A never failing diversion was teasing a gold- 
finch. He began his pranks by entering the 
cage and hammering on the tray, or digging 
into the seed in a savage way that sent it fly- 
ing out in a shower, which result so entertained 
him that I was forced to close the door when 
the owner was out. This the thrush resented, 
and he next took to jumping against the side 
of the cage, clinging a moment, then bouncing 
off with so much force that the cage rocked 
violently. Then he placed himself on the 
perch by the door, and pounded, and pulled, 
and jerked, and shook the door, till, if the 
owner were home, he was nearly wild. Hav- 
ing exhausted that amusement, he jumped on 
the top and in some way jarred the cage 
roughly. To protect it I made a cover of paper, 
but, contrary to my intentions, this afforded the 
rogue a new pleasure, for he soon found that 
by tramping over it he could make a great 
noise, and he quickly learned the trick of tear- 
ing the paper into pieces, and uncovering the 
little fellow, who, by the way, was not in the 
least afraid, but simply enraged and insulted, 
and when outside stood and faced his tormentor, 
blustering and scolding him well. 

Tearing paper was always amusing to the 
brown thrush. I have seen him take his stand 



TEARING THE WALL PAPER. 153 

near the wall, peck at the paper till he found 
a weak spot where it would yield and break, 
then take the torn edge in his bill and deliber- 
ately tear it a little. It was " snatching a fear- 
ful joy," however, for the noise always startled 
him. First came a little tear, then a leap one 
side, another small rent, another panic ; and so 
he went on till he had torn off a large piece 
which dropped to the floor, while I sat too much 
interested in the performance to think of sav- 
ing the paper. (The room and its contents are 
always secondary to the birds' comfort and 
pleasure, in my thoughts.) A newspaper on 
the floor furnished him amusement for hours, 
picking it to pieces, tearing pictures, from 
which he always first pecked the faces, dragging 
the whole about the floor to hear it rattle and 
to scare himself with. A pile of magazines 
on a table made a regular playground for him, 
his plan being to push and pull at the back of 
one till he got it loose from the rest, and then 
work at it till it fell to the floor. He never 
failed to reduce the pile to a disreputable-look- 
ing muss. 

The bird was as fond of hammering as any 
woodpecker, on the bottom of his cage, on 
perches, on the floor, even on his food ; and his 
leaps or bounds without the apparent help of 
his wings were extraordinary. Not infrequently 



154 EXPRESSION OF WINGS. 

I have seen him spring into the air just high 
enough to see me over my desk, — three feet at 
least, — probably to satisfy himself as to my 
whereabouts, and drop instantly back to his 
work or play. 

This amusing bird was also intelligent. He 
understood perfectly well what I wanted when 
I spoke to him ; that is, he had a guilty con- 
science when in mischief that translated my 
tone to him. Also he recognized instantly a 
bird out of place, as, for instance, one on the 
floor which usually frequented the perches and 
higher parts of the room ; and having taken 
upon himself the office of regulator, he always 
went after the bird thus out of his accustomed 
beat. When I talked to the thrasher, he 
answered me not only with a rough-breathing 
sound, a sort of prolonged " ha-a-a," but with 
his wings as well. Of course this is not un- 
common in birds, but none that I have seen use 
these members so significantly as he did. His 
way was to lift the wing nearest me, sometimes 
very slightly, sometimes to a perpendicular posi- 
tion, but only one wing, and only after I made 
a remark. This exhibition was curious and 
interesting, and I often prolonged my talk to 
see the variety he could give to this simple 
motion. His wings were always expressive, in 
alighting in a new place, or where he suspected 



A WHISPER SONG. 155 

there might be danger or a surprise ; the mo- 
ment his feet touched he lifted one or both 
wings quite high, dropping them at once. 

A more lithe body than that of the brown 
thrush I have never seen in feathers ; he could 
assume as many attitudes as he had emotions. 
He often stood on a perch and postured for a 
long time, as if greatly excited and meditating 
some mad deed, and I must confess he usually 
carried out the intention. Not only was he 
able to put his body into all possible shapes, but 
he had extraordinary command of his feathers. 
He could erect them on any one part alone, on 
the top of the head, the shoulders, the back, 
or the chin. He often raised the feathers just 
above the tail, letting that member hang 
straight down, giving him the appearance of 
being chopped square off. 

The song of this bird is well known and 
quite celebrated ; indeed, in the Southern 
States he is called the French mocking-bird, as 
only second to the mocking-bird proper. My 
bird never sang above a w T hisper, one may say ; 
that is, he never opened his mouth to let out 
the sound, though he was extremely fond of 
singing, indulging in it by the hour. He hardly 
paused for eating, or flying, or hopping around 
on the floor, but dropped sweet notes in between 
the mouthfuls, and kept up the warble through 
all movements. 



156 IN THE TWILIGHT. 

As dusk came on the brown thrush began a 
wonderful series of postures, more peculiar and 
varied than one would suppose possible to so 
large and apparently clumsy a bird. Some- 
times he stretched up very tall, then instantly 
crouched as if about to spring ; one moment he 
turned his head downward as though to dive 
off, then wheeled and faced the other way ; 
now he drew his body out long to a point, head 
and tail exactly on a level, then head and tail 
thrust up, making his back the shape of a bow ; 
at one time he threw his head back as though 
about to turn a back somersault, then scraped 
his bill, shook himself out, and made the harsh 
breathing I have spoken off ; in another mo- 
ment he spread his tail like a fan, and instantly 
closed it again ; then turned his head on one 
side very far, while his tail hung out the other 
side, and in this odd position jerked himself 
along by short jumps the whole length of his 
perch. Between the postures and on every 
occasion he scraped his bill violently. Next 
began movements : first he ran down his three 
perches, across the floor, and hopped to the 
upper one from the outside, touching his feet 
to the wires as he went, so rapidly that my 
eyes could not follow him ; then he alighted on 
the perch with a graceful flop of one wing, 
sometimes also bowing his head several times, 



"18 THAT THE WAY YOU EAT?" 157 

and uttering the breathing sound each time. 
Again he jumped from the upper perch to one 
directly under it, and returned the same way 
by a very peculiar motion : standing on the 
lower perch, he turned his head over bis 
shoulder, and sprang back and up at the same 
time, landing in exactly the same position on 
the perch above, with perfect ease and grace. 

Nothing pleased the thrasher more than 
watching other birds ; he observed them closely, 
especially liking to stand on top of a cage and 
see the life below, — an agitated life it was 
apt to be when he was there. Thus he some- 
times stood on the goldfinch's cage and noticed 
every motion with great interest, yet with an 
indescribably ironical air, as if he said, "My 
dear sir, is that the way you eat?" He 
showed particular interest in seed-eating birds, 
apparently not understanding how they could 
enjoy such food. Though full of bluster and 
pretense, he was as gentle as any bird in the 
room, never presumed on his size as the biggest, 
and, though liking to tease and worry, never 
really touching one. The smallest only needed 
to stand and face him to see that it was all 
bluster and fun. 

All this until spring began to stir his blood 
and tempt him occasionally, after long postur- 
ing and many feints, to deliver a gentle dig at 



158 HE SOON SETTLED TEE SPARROWS. 

a neighbor's ribs. Now, too, he began to show 
interest in out-of-doors, standing on the win- 
dow sash and looking out, which is a familiar 
sign that a bird's time to depart has come. In 
his case I did not consider it necessary to carry 
him to the park to liberate him, for I was sure 
he could take care of the sparrows and protect 
himself — and so it proved. When he found 
himself suddenly on a tall tree in the street, and 
before he recovered from his surprise, those dis- 
reputable birds gathered around him to see 
what he was like. They soon found out ; he 
quickly recovered himself, made a wild dash 
that scattered them like leaves before the wind, 
and then planted himself on a branch to await 
another attempt. But sparrows, though saucy, 
are knowing, and not one came near him again. 
They had quite satisfied their curiosity, and 
after a few moments' waiting the brown thrush 
went on his way rejoicing. 



" WONDROUS SINGERS." 



In the swamp in secluded recesses 

A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song. 

Sing on ! sing on, you gray-brown bird ! 
Sing from the swamps, the recesses, pour 
Your chant from the bushes ; 

O liquid and free and tender ! 

O wild and loose to my soul ! 

O wondrous singer ! 

Walt Whitman. 



IX. 

"O WONDROUS SINGERS." 



I FEEL considerable reluctance in approach- 
ing the subject of my small thrushes. None 
but a poet should speak of them — so beautiful, 
so enchanting in song. Yet I cannot bear to 
let their lovely lives pass in silence ; therefore 
if they must needs remain unsung, they shall 
at least be chronicled. 

There were two : one the gray-cheeked thrush, 

the other the veery or Wilson's, and they 

passed a year in my house, filling it with a 

marvelous rippling music like the sweet babble 

of a brook over stones ; like the gentle sighing 

of the wind in pine-trees; like other of nature's 

enchanting sounds, which I really must borrow 

a poet's words to characterize : 

u ( ) liquid and free and tender! 
O wild and loose to my soul ! 
O wondrous singer." 

The gray-cheeked, most charming in every 

look and motion, uttered his notes in a free 



162 "MY WOODS IN song:' 

sweep or crescendo, which began low, gathered 
force as he went on, and then gradually died out ; 
all in one long slur, without a defined or stac- 
cato note, making a wonderful resemblance to 
wind sounds, as Emerson expresses it : 
" His music was the Southwind's sigh." 

The song of the veery was quite different, 
low, rapid, interspersed with a louder, wild- 
sounding cry, or, as aptly described by a lis- 
tener, like the gurgling sounds made by blow- 
ing through a tube into soft water, with occa- 
sional little explosions. The soft, whispered 
warble of a brown thrush added a certain under- 
tone which combined and harmonized both 
these, forming with them a rhapsody of a rip- 
pling, bubbling character impossible to de- 
scribe, but constantly reminding one of running 
streams, and gentle water-falls, and coming 
nearer to " put my woods in song " than any 
other bird-notes whatever. Neither of the per- 
formers opened his mouth, so that the trio was 
very low, a true whisper-song. 

It was somewhat curious that with one ex- 
ception all the birds in the room through 
these months sang whisper-songs also, without 
opening the bill. There were six of them, and 
every one delighted in singing; the three 
thrushes, a bluebird, a female orchard oriole, 
and a Mexican clarin. To the thrushes, music 



A BEWITCHING DANCE, 163 

seemed necessary to life ; hour after hour they 
stood on their respective perches across the 
room, puffed out into balls, " pouring out their 
souls." and entrancing us not only with their 
suggestive melody, but with graceful and po- 
etical movements, and a beauty of look and 
bearing that moved one deeply. During the 
aria both birds stood motionless, one with wings 
drooping, and accenting every note, the other 
with tail slightly jerking for the same pur- 
pose. 

In character no less than in song the birds 
differed; bright, active and high-spirited, the 
gray-cheeked delighted in the freedom of 
the room, feared nothing, came upon the desk 
freely, and calmly met one's eyes with his own, 
brave free soul that he was, while his vis-d-vis 
was timid and shy, could not be induced to 
leave the shelter of his home though the door 
stood open all day. He never resented the in- 
trusion of a neighbor, nor disputed the posses- 
sion of his own dish. 

Almost as interesting as his song was a be- 
witching dance with which the gray-cheeked 
charmed every one fortunate enough to see 
him. His chosen hour was the approach of 
evening, when, with body very erect and head 
thrown up in i . he lifted his wings high 

above his back, fluttering them rapidly with a 



164 MYSTERY IN THRUSH LIFE. 

sound like soft patter of summer rain, while 
he moved back and forth on his perch with the 
daintiest of little steps and hops : now up, now 
down, now across the cage, with gentle noise 
of feet and wings. No music accompanied it, 
and none was needed — it was music itself. 
Not only did he dance away the long hours of 
twilight, till so dark he could not be seen, but 
he greeted the dawn in the same way ; long 
before any other bird stirred, before the hid- 
eous morning call of the first sparrow in the 
street, the soft flutter of his wings, the light 
patter of his feet was heard. In the night also, 
if gas was lighted, however dimly, dancing 
began and was continued in the darkness, long 
after the light was out and every other feather 
at rest. A sudden light stopped the motion, 
but revealed the dancer agitated, stirred, with 
soft dark eyes fixed upon the observer. This 
dance was not an attempt or indication of a 
desire to escape, as I am sure for several rea- 
sons. I can tell the instant that longing for 
freedom sets in. It was a fresh sign of the 
strange, mysterious emotion with which all 
thrushes greet the rising and setting of the 
sun. 

The singular use of the feet by this bird was 
very peculiar, and not confined to his dancing 
hours. While standing on the edge of the 



THE DEAR DELIGHT. 165 

bathing-dish, longing, yet dreading to enter the 
water, on alighting upon an unaccustomed 
perch, or venturing on to the desk, many times 
a day he took the little steps, lifting first one, 
then the other foot very slightly, and bringing 
it down with a sound without changing his po- 
sition. It seemed to be an evidence of excite- 
ment, as another bird might exhibit by a quiv- 
ering of the wings. The veery was also a 
dancer, but in a different way. He fanned his 
wings violently and moved back and forth across 
the top of a cage, but always in daylight, and 
then only on the rare occasions when, by placing 
his food outside, he was coaxed from his cage. 
Bathing was — next to singing — the dear 
delight of the gray-cheeked's life, yet no bird 
ever had more misgivings about taking the fatal 
plunge. His first movement on leaving the 
cage was to go to the bath, around which he 
hovered, now this side, now that, one moment 
on the perch above, the next on the edge of the 
dish, plainly longing to be in, yet the mere ap- 
proach of the smallest bird in the room drove 
him away. Not that he was afraid, he was not 
in the least a coward; he met everybody and 
everything with the dignity and bravery of a 
true thrush. Neither was it that he was dis- 
abled when wet, which makes some birds hesi- 
tate ; he was never at all disordered by his 



166 THE IDEAL BIRD IN THE GLASS. 

bath, and however long he soaked, or thor- 
oughly he spattered, his plumage remained in 
place and he was perfectly able to fly at once. 
It appeared simply that he could not make up 
his mind to go in. Then too, it soon became 
apparent that he noticed his reflection in the 
water. He often stood on the edge after bath- 
ing, as well as before, looking intently upon the 
image. Before the glass he did the same, look- 
ing earnestly and in a low tone " uttering his 
thoughts to the ideal bird whioh he fancied he 
saw before him." Indeed, I think this ideal 
thrush was a great comfort to him. 

Once having decided to go into the bath he 
enjoyed it exceedingly, though in an unusual 
way, fluttering and splashing vigorously for a 
moment, then standing motionless up to his 
body in the water, not shaking or pluming him- 
self, not alarmed, but quietly enjoying the 
soaking. After several fits of splashing alter- 
nated with soaking, he went to a perch and 
shook and plumed himself nearly dry, and just 
when one would think he had entirely finished, 
he returned to the dish, and began again — 
hesitating on the brink, coquetting with the 
" ideal thrush " in the water, and in fact doing 
the whole thing over again. 

My bird had a genuine thrush's love of quiet 
and dislike of a crowd, preferred unfrequented 



STRAXGE PLACES TO ALIGHT. 167 

places to alight on, and was quite ingenious in 
finding them. The ornamental top of a gas- 
fixture a few inches below the ceiling, which 
was cup-shaped and nearly hid him, was a fa- 
vorite place. So was also the loose edge of a 
hanging card-board map which, having been 
long rolled, hung out from the wall like a half- 
open scroll. This he liked best, for no other 
bird ever approached it, and here he passed 
much time swinging, as if he enjo) r ed the mo- 
tion which he plainly made efforts to keep up. 
His plan was to fly across the room and alight 
suddenly upon it, when, of course it swayed up 
and down with his weight. The moment it 
came to a rest, he flew around the room in a 
wide circle and came down again heavily, hold- 
ing on with all his might, and keeping his bal- 
ance with wings and tail. He enjoyed it so 
well that he often swung for a long time. 

Later he found another snug retreat where 
no bird ever intruded. He discovered it in this 
way : one day, on being suddenly startled by 
an erratic dash around the room of the brown 
thrush, which scattered the smaller birds like 
leaves before the wind, he brought up under 
the l>ed on the floor. The larger bird had evi- 
dently marked the place of his retreat, for he 
followed him. and in his mad way rushed under 
when the gray-cheeked disappeared. The bed- 



168 RETIREMENT UNDER TEE BED. 

stead was a light iron one, high from the floor, 
so that all this was plainly seen. No one being 
in sight, the brown thrush came out and turned 
to his regular business of stirring up the house- 
hold while the little thrush was not to be seen, 
and perfect silence seemed to indicate that he 
was not there at all. After some search, aided 
by an indiscreet movement on his part, he was 
found perched on the framework, between the 
mattress and the wall. This narrow retreat, 
apparently discovered by accident, soon became 
a favorite retiring place when he did not care 
for society. 

This interesting bird, with all his dignity, 
had a playful disposition. Nothing pleased him 
better than rattling and tearing to bits a news- 
paper or the paper strips over a row of books, 
although he had to stand on the latter while he 
worked at it ; and notwithstanding it not only 
rustled, but disturbed his footing as well, he 
was never discouraged. A more violent jerk 
than usual sometimes startled him so that he 
bounded six or eight inches into the air in his 
surprise, but he instantly returned to the play 
and never rested till he had picked holes, torn 
pieces out, and reduced it to a complete wreck. 

All through the long winter this charming 
thrush, with his two neighbors, delighted the 
house with his peculiar and matchless music, 



STRPRISE OF FREEDOM. 169 

and endeared himself by his gentle and lovely 
disposition. No harsh sound was ever heard 
from him, there was no intrusion upon the 
rights of others, and no vulgar quarrels dis- 
turbed his serene soul. But as spring began to 
stir his blood he changed a little ; he grew 
somewhat belligerent, refused to let any one 
alight in his chosen places, and even drove oth- 
ers away from his side of the room. Now, too, 
he added to his already melting song an inde- 
scribable trill, something so spiritual, so charged 
with the wildness of the woods, that no words 
— even of a poet — can do it justice. Now, 
too, he began to turn longing glances out of the 
window, and evidently his heart was no longer 
with us. So, on the first perfect day in May 
he was taken to a secluded nook in a park and 
his door set open. His first flight was to a low 
tree, twenty feet from the silent spectator, who 
waited, anxious to see if his year's captivity 
had unfitted him for freedom. 

Perching on the lowest branch, the thrush 
instantly crouched in an attitude of surprise 
and readiness for anything, which was common 
with him, his bill pointed up at an angle of 
forty-five degrees, head sunk in the shoulders, 
and tail standing out stifily, thus forming a per- 
fectly straight line from the point of his beak 
to the tip of his tail. There he stood, perfectly 



170 A HAPPY BIRD. 

motionless, apparently not moving so much as 
an eyelid for twenty minutes, trying to realize 
what had happened to him and in the patient, 
deliberate manner of a thrush to adjust himself 
to his new conditions. In the nook were silence 
and delicious odors of the woods; from a thick 
shrub on one side came the sweet erratic song 
of a cat-bird, and at a little distance the rich or- 
gan-tones of the wood-thrush. All these entered 
the soul of the emancipated bird ; he listened, 
he looked, and at last he spoke, a low, soft, 
" wee-o." That broke the spell, he drew him- 
self up, hopped about the tree, flew to a shrub, 
all the time posturing and jerking wings and 
tail in extreme excitement and no doubt happi- 
ness to the tips of his toes. At last he dropped 
to the ground and fell to digging and reveling 
in the soft loose earth with enthusiasm. The 
loving friend looking on was relieved ; this was 
what she had waited for, to be assured that he 
knew where to look for supplies, and though 
she left his familiar dish full of food where he 
could see it in case of accident, she came away 
feeling that he had not been incapacitated for a 
free life by his months with her. 

One more glimpse of him made it clear also 
that he could fly as well as his wild neighbors, 
and removed the last anxiety about him. A 
wood-thrush, after noticing the stranger for 



FAREWELL. 171 

some minutes, finally braved the human pres- 
ence and made a rush for the little fellow about 
half his size. Whether war or welcome moved 
him was not evident, for away they flew across 
the nook, not more than a foot apart, now 
sweeping low over the grass, then mounting 
higher to pass over the shrubs that defined it. 
A hundred feet or more the chase continued, 
and then the smaller bird dropped into a low 
bush, and the larger one passed on. 

Then lonely, with empty cage and a happy 
heart-ache, his friend turned away and left the 
beautiful bird to his fate, assured that he was 
well able to supply his needs and to protect 
himself — in a word, to be free. 



A BIRD OF AFFAIRS. 



But now the sun is rising calm and bright ; 

The jay makes answer as the magpie chatters, 
And all the air is filled with pleasant sound of waters, 

All things that love the sun are out of doors. 

Wordsworth. 



X. 

A BIRD OF AFFAIRS. 



Oxe of the most interesting birds I have 
studied was a blue-jay; I may say is, for he 
stands at this moment not six feet from me, his 
whole mind intent upon the business of driving 
small corks through a hole which they snugly 
fit. He takes the cork, as he does everything, 
lengthwise, and turns it about till he gets the 
smaller end outside ; then pushes it into the 
hole and pounds it, delivering straight and 
rapid strokes with his iron beak, till it is not 
only driven up to the head, but, since he has 
found out that he can do so, till it drops out on 
the other side, when, after an interested glance 
to see where it has fallen, he instantly goes to 
the floor for another, and repeats the perform- 
ance. Hammering, indeed, is one of his chief 
pleasures, and no woodpecker, whose special 
mission it is supposed to be, can excel him; in 
excitement, in anger, when suffering from ennui 
or from embarrassment, he always resorts to 



176 INDUSTRIOUS MISCHIEF. 

that exercise to relieve his feelings. I have 
thought sometimes he did it to hear the noise 
and to amuse himself, in which case it might 
be called drumming. 

Not only does my bird occupy himself with 
corks, but with perches and the woodwork of 
his cage, with so great success that the former 
have to be frequently renewed, and the latter 
looks as though rats had nibbled it. The delib- 
erate way in which he goes to work to destroy 
his cage is amusing, lifting the end of a perch 
and quietly throwing it to the floor, or pound- 
ing and splitting off a big splinter of the soft 
pine and carefully hiding it. To give him liber- 
ty, as I have, is simply to enlarge the field of his 
labors, and furnish him congenial employment 
from morning to night, the happiest and busiest 
member of the household. He tries every- 
thing : the covers of cardboard boxes, always 
choosing the spot that is weakest at the cor- 
ner, and pounding till it is ruined; the cane 
seats of chairs, which he selects with equal 
judgment, and never leaves till he has effected 
a breach ; a delicate work-basket, at which he 
labors with enthusiasm, driving his pickaxe bill 
into it and cutting a big hole. It is most 
curious to see him set himself to pick a hole, 
for instance, in a close-woven rattan chair, or a 
firm piece of matting stretched upon the floor. 



SCALLOPING THE LEAVES. 177 

Selecting, by some esoteric wisdom, the most 
vulnerable spot, lie pushes and pounds and 
pokes till he gets the tip of his beak under a 
strand, and then pulls and jerks and twists till 
he draws it out of its place. After this the 
task is easy, and he spends hours over it, ending 
with a hole in the matting three or four inches 
in diameter; for he is never discouraged, and 
his persistence of purpose is marvelous. Books 
are a special object of his attentions ; not only 
does he peck the backs as they stand on the 
shelves, till he can insert his beak and tear off a 
bit, but if he finds one lying down he thrusts the 
same useful instrument into the edge, slightly 
open so as to inclose two or three leaves, and 
then, with a dexterous twist of the head, jerks 
out a neat little three-cornered piece. Thus he 
goes on, and after a short absence from the room 
I have found a great litter of white bits, and my 
big dictionary curiously scalloped on the edges. 
He is able to pound up as well as down, crouch- 
ing, turning his head back, and delivering tre- 
mendous blows on the very spot he wishes, and 
so accurately that he easily cuts a thread, hold- 
ing its strands under one toe. 

Bat hammering, though a great pleasure, is 
not his dearest delight. The thing for which, 
apparently, he came into the world is to put 
small objects out of sight, — bury them, in 



178 MAKING THE ROOM NEAT. 

fact. No doubt the business for which Nature 
fitted him, and which in freedom he would fol- 
low with enthusiasm, is the planting of trees; 
to his industry we probably owe many an oak 
and nut tree springing up in odd places. In 
captivity, poor soul, he does the best he can to 
fulfill his destiny. When he has more of any 
special dainty than he can eat at the moment, 
as meat, or bread and milk, he hides it at the 
back of his tray, or in the hole already spoken 
of in connection with the corks ; and when out- 
side, nothing can be droller than the air of con- 
cern with which he goes around the floor, pick- 
ing up any small thing he finds, left purposely 
for him, a burnt match, a small key, stray pins, 
or a marble, and seeks the very best and most 
secluded spot in the room in which to hide it. 
A pin he takes lengthwise in his mouth, which 
he closes as though he had swallowed it, as at 
first I feared he had. He has no doubt about 
the best place for that ; he long ago decided 
that between the leaves of a book is safest. So 
he proceeds at once to find a convenient volume, 
and thrusts the pin far in out of sight. A 
match gives him the most trouble. He tries 
the cracks under the grooves in the moulding of 
the doors, the base board, between the matting 
and the wall, or under a rocker ; in each place 
he puts it carefully, and pounds it in, then hops 
off, giving me one of the 



GETTING OFF MATCHES. 179 

" sidelong glances wise 
Wherewith the jay hints tragedies," 

attempting to look unconcerned, as if he had 
not been doing anything. But if he sees that 
he is observed, or the match is too plainly in 
sight, he removes it and begins again, running 
and hopping around on the floor with the most 
solemn, business-like air, as though he had the 
affairs of nations on his shoulders, the match 
thrust nearly its whole length into his mouth. 
The place usually decided upon is an opening 
between the breadths of matting. It is amus- 
ing when he chances to get hold of a box of 
matches, accidentally left open, for he feels 
the necessity and importance of disposing of 
each one. and is busy and industrious in pro- 
portion to the task before him. It is not so 
pleasing, however, when, in his hammering, he 
sets one off, as he often does ; for they are 
" parlor matches," and light with a small explo- 
sion, which frightens him half out of his wits, 
and me as well, lest he set the house afire. 
The business of safely and securely secreting 
one match will frequently occupy him half an 
hour. lie finds the oddest hiding-places, as in 
a caster between the wheel and its frame ; up 
tide the seat of a stuffed chair, to reach 
which he flies up on to the webbing and goes 
in among the springs ; in the side of my slipper 



180 FILLING UP KEYHOLES. 

while on my foot ; in the loop of a bow ; in the 
plaits of a ruffle ; under a pillow. Often when 
I get up, a shower of the jay's treasures falls 
from various hiding-places about my dress, — 
nails, matches, shoe-buttons, and others; and I 
am never sure that I shall not find soft, milk- 
soaked bread in my slipper. But the latest dis- 
covered and most annoying of his receptacles is 
in my hair. He delights in standing on the 
high back of my rocking-chair, or on my 
shoulder, and he soon discovered several desira- 
ble hiding-places conveniently near, such as my 
ear, and under the loosely dressed hair. I did 
not object to his using these, but when he 
attempted to tuck away some choice thing be- 
tween my lips I rebelled. I never expect to 
find a keyhole that he can reach, free from 
bread crumbs, and the openings of my waste- 
basket are usually decorated with objects half 
driven in. 

The jay shows unbounded interest in every- 
thing. Every sound and every fresh sight 
arouses him instantly; his crest comes up, 
his feathers fluff out, and he is on tiptoe to 
see what will come next. He is remarkably 
discriminating among people, and takes violent 
likes and dislikes on the instant. Some per- 
sons, without any reason that I can discover, 
he salutes on their first appearance with an in- 






WAR UPON THE BABY. 181 

describable cry, like " obble ! obble ! obble ! " 
At others he squawks madly. On one occa- 
sion he took an intense dislike to a lady, of 
whom birds generally are very fond, and he 
made a peculiar display of rage, squawking 
and screaming at her, raising his crest, stamp- 
ing, snapping his beak, giving vicious digs at 
the side of the cage, as though he would eat 
her if he could reach her. And although he 
often saw her, and she tried her best to win 
him. he always showed the same spirit, going 
so far, when out of his cage, as to show fight, 
fly up at her, peck her savagely, and chase her 
to the door when she left. Again, a lady came 
in with her baby, and he at once singled out 
the infant as his enemy, fixing a very wicked 
glance on it, but in perfect silence. He jumped 
back and forth as if mad to get out, and sat 
with open mouth, panting as if exhausted, with 
•s immovably turned to the baby. He would 
not pay the slightest attention to any one else, 
nor answer me when I spoke, which was very 
unusual, till they left the room, when the mo- 
ment the door closed behind them he began 
rapidly, as if to make up for lost time. Some 
- whom he fancies, he receives in silence, 
but with slightly quivering wings ; only the 
very few he loves best are greeted with a low, 
sweet, and very peculiar chatter, which he keeps 
up as long as he is talked to. 



182 IN THE DESK DRAWERS. 

Investigating everything in the room is one 
of my bird's greatest pleasures, and most at- 
tractive of all he finds the drawer of my desk, 
on the edge of which he stands, delighted and 
bewildered by the variety before him. Great 
would be the havoc if I were not there ; and 
the curious thing about it is that he will pull 
things over carelessly, with one eye on me, to 
see if I object. If, on touching some particu- 
lar thing, he sees that I do not approve, — and 
he recognizes my sentiment as quickly as a 
bright child would, — that thing, and that 
only, he will have. At once he snatches it 
and flies away across the room, and I may 
chase him in vain. He regards it as a frolic 
got up for his amusement, and no child ever 
equaled him in dodging ; he cannot be driven, 
and if cornered he uses his wings. I simply 
put my wits against his, follow him about till 
he has to drop his load to breathe, when a sud- 
den start sends him off, and I secure it. If I 
cover up anything, he knows at once it is some 
forbidden treasure, and devotes all his energy 
and cunning, which are great, to uncovering 
and possessing himself of it. He opens any 
box by delivering sharp blows under the edge 
of the cover, and hides my postage stamps 
in books and magazines. He hops around 
the floor in a heavy way, as often sideways as 



A BIRD OF OPINIONS. 183 

straight, and holds his toes as close together as 
though he had worn ti^ht boots all his life. If 
startled, he bounds up into the air in the oddest 
way. a foot or two, or even more, generally 
turning half round, and coming down with his 
head the other way. If much alarmed he will 
bounce up in this way half a dozen times in 
quick succession, and should he happen to be 
on a table at the time, he usually ends by land- 
ing on the floor. His alighting after any flight 
is most singular : he comes to the floor in a 
crouching position, legs sprawled, body horizon- 
tal and nearly touching the matting, looking 
like a bird gone mad ; then instantly springs 
up six or eight inches, half turns, and stands 
upright, crest erect, and looking excited, almost 
frightened. If much disturbed he comes down 
with wings half open, tail held up, and every 
feather awry, as if he were out in a gale, ut- 
tering at the same time aloud squawk. He is 
a most expert catcher, not only seizing without 
fail a canary seed thrown to him, but even flut- 
tering bits of falling paper, the hardest of all 
things to catch. 

The blue-jay is a bird of opinions about most 
things, and able to express himself quite clearly ; 

. for example, when he found himself under 
a chair without rounds, on which he likes to 
perch, he stood and looked around on every side, 



184 STAMPING HIS FEET. 

and made a low, complaining cry, plainly a pro- 
test against so unnatural a chair ; and again, 
when he scolded at the rain that came in sudden 
gusts against the window, or charged furiously 
at the crack under a door when he heard sweep- 
ing outside. In general he is very quiet when 
one is in the room, but the moment the door 
closes behind the last person his voice is heard, 
— whistling exactly like a boy, calling, squawk- 
ing, and occasionally uttering a sweet, though 
not loud song, which is varied by a sound like 
rubbing a cork against glass. The most quiet 
approach silences him. When under strong 
emotion he may squawk or scream before spec- 
tators, but he never whistles or sings when he 
knows any one is in the room. When out of 
his sight and so long silent that he has forgotten 
me, I have now and then heard the song. 

The funniest thing this knowing fellow does 
is to stamp his feet, and it is a genuine expres- 
sion of impatience or displeasure. When I take 
something away from him or he thinks I mean 
to do so, or refuse him something he wants, he 
stands still and jerks his feet in such a way that 
they stamp with a loud sound, as if they w jre 
of iron. It is very droll. In serious anger, he 
adds to this, bowing and curtsying by bending 
the legs, snapping the bill, pecking, and jump- 
ing up with the body without lifting the feet. 



LIE LOST HIS TAIL. 185 

It may be that the jay in freedom disturbs 
other birds, as has been affirmed, but among a 
number smaller than himself my bird has never 
once shown the least hostility. He is inter- 
ested in their doings, but the only unpleasant 
thing he has done is to shriek and scream 
to stop their singing. In spite of his nat- 
ural boldness, always facing the enemy, al- 
ways ready to fight, and never running from 
danger nor allowing himself to be driven any- 
where, when he is not quite well he is a timid 
bird. In moulting, this spring, my jay lost 
his entire tail, and was extremely awkward in 
getting about, almost helpless, in fact; and at 
that time he was afraid to hop to the floor, and 
refused to come out of the cage. (I should have 
said, by the way, that he feared hurting him- 
self ; he was quite as spirited as ever, as ready 
to show fight.) To get him out of the door I 
offered him the greatest inducements, with the 
cage on the floor, so that he could not fall far. 
He would stand on the lowest perch, three 
inches from the floor, look at the meat or what- 
ever treasure I placed in the open doorway, and 
cry a faint, low, jay-baby cry, yet not dare de- 
ad, though plainly aching with desire to get 
the object so nearly within his reach. Even 
since he is entirely recovered and the possessor 
of a beautiful long tail, he dreads the one little 



186 ON THE PLAYER'S HEAD. 

step, and has to be coaxed out and in his cage 
every day, as we coax a startled child. 

Nothing ever interested the jay more than a 
piano, though he is fond of any music. The 
first time he heard one he quickly hopped across 
to the player, pulled at the hem of her dress, 
flew up to her lap, then her arm, and mounted 
to her shoulder, where he stood some time, 
looking and listening, turning his head this way 
and that, raising his crest, jerking his body, 
and in every way showing intense excitement. 
Finally he took his last step, to the top of her 
head, where he was more pleased to be than the 
player was to have him. She put him down; 
and the next time he tried a different way, 
mounted to the keys, and thence to the cover, 
crouching and peering under the lid to see 
where the sounds came from. Satisfied about 
this, he returned to her head, which he evi- 
dently considered the best post of observation. 
Every time she played she received the devoted 
attentions of the bird, and he could not be kept 
away. 

My blue-jay is now a beautiful creature, in 
perfect plumage, with breast and back plumes 
so long that often in repose, just after he has 
dressed them, the violet blue of the back meets 
the light drab of his breast, on the side, cover- 
ing his wings completely, and making a lovely 



OUR TROUBLESOME ROGUE. 187 

picture. All through the spring excitement, 
when the other birds, one after another, grew 
uneasy, belligerent, or unhappy, and one after 
another were returned to freedom, he never 
showed a moment's uneasiness, an instant's de- 
sire to be free, but scrupulously attended to his 
own regular business, which is to pound and 
pull and peck to pieces my furniture, and espe- 
cially to destroy my books. 

As these last words are written, just at dusk, 
the dear, troublesome rogue comes down to the 
corner of his cage nearest to me, and as if he 
understood that I had said something about him 
begins to talk and remonstrate in a low, loving 
tone. I do feel reproached, and I must unsay it. 
His business, his manifest destiny, is to hammer 
and peck the shells of nuts, and to hide them 
away where they will grow ; and if cruel man 
confines him in a house, he must exercise his 
untiring energy, his demon of work, in what he 
finds there, — and who can blame him, or find 
fault ? Not I, certainly. 

In behalf of this bird against whom the pen 
of nearly every writer is lifted, let me quote 
from one of our early and most careful observ- 
ers, William Bart ram : " The jay is one of the 
most useful agents in the economy of nature for 
disseminating forest trees and other ruciferous 
and hard-seeded vegetables on which they feed. 



188 IN HIS VINDICATION. 

These birds alone are capable in a few years' 
time to replant all the cleared lands." Thoreau, 
who was perhaps the closest of our modern stu- 
dents of nature, cites this passage and emphat- 
ically affirms its justice. 



THE BLUE-JAY AGAIN. 



As for birds, I do not believe there is one of them but does 
more good than harm ; and of how many featherless bipeds 
can this be said ? 

Emerson. 



XL 

THE BLUE-JAY AGAIN. 



The blue-jay came out of the egg with his 
mind made up. He always knew exactly what 
he wanted, and never doubted that he knew 
how to get it. I wrote of this bird some time 
ago, but he was then a comparatively new ac- 
quaintance. He lived with us many months 
after that, and became much more familiar ; for 
besides being slow to feel thoroughly at home, 
he was very young, and he grew in wisdom with 
age. So I have more to say of him. 

Human society was necessary to the jay ; he 
cared for the other birds of the room only as 
objects on which to play tricks for his own 
amusement. He was peculiar, too, in never 
liking more than one friend at a time, and was 
very decided in his opinions of people, having 
a distinctly different reception for each one of 
the household, as well as for strangers. His 
mistress was always his prime favorite ; and 
although during my absence from home he 



192 TO HIS BEST BELOVED. 

adopted some one temporarily in my- place, be 
was never so affectionate to that one as to me, 
and the instant I returned resumed his old re- 
lations to each of us. 

To his best beloved this bird never squawked 
or whistled ; on the contrary, he talked in low, 
sweet tones, hardly more than a murmur, 
slightly lifting and quivering his wings, sidling 
as near as he could get, and if I put my face 
down to him touching my cheek or lips gently 
with his beak, in little taps, like kisses. Any 
one else in that position would receive a violent 
peck. Sometimes, when I was busy, and there- 
fore silent a long time, and the jay was in his 
cage, where I was obliged to put him in order 
to work at all, he stood perfectly quiet and 
motionless an hour at a time, moving only when 
he was hungry, and apparently watching me 
every instant, — a performance very uncommon 
in a bird, who usually has some interests of 
his own, however fond he may be of a person. 
The moment I spoke to him his whole manner 
changed. He came at once as near as he could, 
about four feet from me, and began to talk, 
holding his tail on one side, and both wings 
spread to their fullest extent and parallel with 
his back. In this attitude he hopped up and 
down his three perches, always as near my side 
as possible, and evidently in great excitement. 



FOXD OF ICE-CREAM. 193 

If during this exhibition any one came in, his 
wings instantly dropped, though he did not 
stop talking to rue. This action of the wings 
showed extreme affection, and must not be pro- 
faned by common eyes. When I came close 
and replied to him, his agitation was almost 
painful to see. — such loving tones, such gentle 
kisses, such struggles to express himself. Not 
only did he insist on sharing his dainties with 
me, offering me mocking-bird food or bread and 
milk in the most loving way, but he wished to 
share mine : ice-cream he delighted in, cake he 
was as fond of as any child, and candy he al- 
wavs begged for, though instead of eating it 
he hid it somewhere about the room, — under 
my pillow, or between the leaves of a book, all 
sticky as it was from his mouth. 

Second in the blue-jay's affection was a lady 
to whom at first he took a great dislike. She 
tried her best to win him, talking to him, treat- 
ing him to various tidbits, and offering him the 
hospitality of her room, — separated from the 
bird-room by a passage, — and above all danc- 
ing with him. These attentions in time secured 
her a warm place in his regards, though his 
treatment of her was very different from that 
reserved for me. lie was always gentle with 
me, while in her society he exhibited all his 
noisy accomplishments, — squawked, whistled 



194 FROLICS WITH HIS FRIEND. 

and screamed, stamped his feet, and jounced (the 
only word to describe a certain raising and vio- 
lent dropping of the body without lifting the 
feet). He ran after her when she left the 
room; he pecked her hand, and flew up at her 
face. Gradually, as he grew to like her better, 
the more violent demonstrations ceased ; but he 
was always boisterous with her, generally ex- 
pected a half-fight, half-frolic, and I must say 
never failed to enjoy it greatly. 

The dance spoken of was droll. His chosen 
place for this indulgence was the back of a tall 
chair. His friend stood before this, whistled, 
bowed, and moved her head up and down as 
if dancing ; and he on his perch did the same, 
jumping up and down in a similar way, answer- 
ing her whistle for whistle, moving his feet, slid- 
ing from one side to the other, curtsying, lower- 
ing the body and flattening the head feathers, 
then rising, stamping his feet, and drooping his 
wings. This he kept up as long as she played 
second to him. 

When this playfellow went away, the jay 
missed his dances and frolics. He flew into her 
empty room, perched on the back of the rock- 
ing-chair, where he had been wont to stand and 
pull her hair, and began a peculiar cry. Again 
and again he repeated it, louder and louder each 
time, till it ended in a squawk, impatient and 



"OBBLE! OBBLE!" 195 

angry, as much as to say, " Why don't you an- 
swer?" After a while be began to whistle 
the notes she used to imitate : finding that this 
brought no response, he returned to the cry ; 
and when at last he had exhausted all his re- 
sources, he came back to my desk and consoled 
himself by talking to me. 

A young lady in the family he greeted by 
flying at her. alighting on her chair-back, claw- 
ing her neck, and squawking ; and before a 
youth who often teased him he trailed his 
wings on the floor, tail spread and dragging 
also, uttering a curious %i obble! obble!" some- 
thing like the cry of a turkey. The head of 
the household he met with stamping of the feet, 
and no sound ; while at a maid who came in 
to sweep he always flew furiously, aiming for 
her head, and invariably frightening her half 
out of her wits. 

The jay was extremely wary about anything 
like a trap, and being always on the lookout for 
one, he sometimes, like bigger persons, fooled 
himself badly. Finding him fond of standing 
on a set of turning bookshelves, I thought to 
please him by arranging over it a convenient 
resting-place. He watched me with great in- 
Bt, bat, when I had finished, declined to use 
the perch, though ordinarily nothing could keep 
him from trying every new thing. I put a bait 



196 A KNOWING FELLOW. 

upon it in the shape of bits of gum-drops, a 
favorite delicacy ; but he plainly saw that I 
wanted him to go to it, and in the face of the 
fact that I had heretofore tried to keep him off 
the papers and magazines lying there, he de- 
cided that it was suspicious. He flew so as 
almost to touch the stick, and hovered before it 
to snatch off the candy placed there ; but alight 
on it he would not, and did not, though I kept 
it in place a week. 

In many ways this bird was wise ; he knew 
exactly where to deliver his blows to effect 
what he desired. A cage -door being fastened 
with fine wire, he never wasted a stroke upon 
the door, but gave telling blows directly upon 
the wire. A rubber band was looped about 
a rod for him to play with, in the expectation 
that he would pull on it and make sport ; but he 
disappointed us all by hammering at the loop, 
until he loosened it and easily pulled it off. 
Again it was tied on with strong linen thread ; 
he turned his whole attention to the knot of the 
latter, till it yielded and was disposed of also. 

Dear as was this bird, he was a more than 
usually troublesome pet. My desk became his 
favorite playground, and havoc indeed he made 
with the things upon it ; snatching and running 
off with paper, pen, or any small object, destroy- 
ing boxes and injuring books. Finally, in self- 



MISCHIEF ON THE DESK. 197 

defense, I adopted the plan of laying over it 
every morning a woolen cloth, which must be 
lifted every time anything was taken from the 
desk. This arrangement did not please my 
small friend in blue, and he took pains to ex- 
press his displeasure in the most emphatic way. 
lie came down upon the cover, tramped all over 
it. and sought small holes in it through which to 
thrust his bill. One day he was busily engaged 
in hammering a book through an opening, and 
to cure him of the trick I slipped my hand 
under, caught his beak between two fingers, and 
held it a moment. This amazed but did not 
alarm the bird ; on the contrary, he plainly de- 
cided to persevere till he found out the secret. 
He pecked the mounds made by my fingers ; he 
stooped and looked into the hole, and then 
probed again. This time I held him longer, 
so that he had to struggle and beat his wings 
to get away, and then he walked off indig- 
nantly. Still he was not satisfied about that 
mystery, and in a moment he was back again, 
trying in new ways to penetrate it. I was 
tired before he was. He was baffled only 

nporarily ; he soon learned to draw up the 
fabric, hold the slack under one foot while he 
pulled it still further, and thus soon reach any- 
thing he desired. 

The blue-jay always pried into packages by 



198 FLYING AWAY WITH THE PHOTOGRAPH. 

pecking a hole in the wrapper and examining 
the contents through that : and boxes he opened 
by delivering upward blows under the edge of 
the cover. The waste-basket he nearly emptied 
from the outside by dragging papers through 
the openings in the weaving. Seeing two or 
three unmounted photographs put into a book, 
he went speedily for that volume, thrust his 
beak into the slight opening made by the pic- 
tures, and pulled them out, flying at once across 
the room with one in his mouth. It was se- 
cured and put back, and the book held down 
by a heavy weight ; but he found the place at 
once, and repeated the naughtiness. The book 
had to be completely covered up before the 
photographs were safe. 

After the blue-jay had put on a new suit 
of feathers he flew with great ease, and selected 
for a retreat the top of a door into the passage- 
way mentioned, which usually stood open. It 
was not long before his curiosity was roused to 
know what was outside the door that so often 
swallowed up his friends, — that into the hall. 
He resolved to find out, and to that end, when 
stationed on the elevated perch of his choice, 
held himself in readiness, upon the exit of any 
one, to fly out. He did not wish to get away ; 
he merely took a turn in the hall, and came 
back ; and once, when accidentally left in that 



BIRDS NO SOCIETY FOR HIM. 199 

unfamiliar place, he stayed in the bath-room, 
with window wide open, for half an hour be- 
fore he was found. He became so expert in 
flying out of the door that it was a difficult 
matter to pass through without his company ; 
we had to train ourselves in sleight-of-hand 
to outwit him. There were two ways of get- 
ting the better of him ; mere suddenness was of 
do use, — he was much quicker than we were. 
One way was to go to the room on the other 
side of the passage, where he was sure to fol- 
low, and before he fairly settled there, to dodge 
back and shut the door, — a proceeding so un- 
expected that he never learned to allow for 
it. The other way was to go to the hall- 
door as if intending to open it; instantly the 
bird swooped down, ready to slip out also, 
but finding the way closed, swept around the 
room and alighted somewhere. This was the 
second to open the door and step out, for he 
always paused a moment before flying again. 

The only notice the jay ever took of the 
birds, as said above, was to tease them, or put 
them in a flutter ; as society he plainly despised 
them. They scon learned to regard him as a 
sort of infernal machine, liable at any moment 
to explode ; and they were fully justified, for 
he was fond of surprising them by unexpectedly 
flying around the room, tail spread, feathers 



200 FUN WITH A GRASSHOPPER. 

rustling, squawking madly in a loud voice. He 
usually managed in his career to sweep close 
over the head of every bird, of course frighten- 
ing them off their perches, and thus to put the 
whole room into a panic. They took refuge 
anywhere, — under the bed, behind the chairs, 
against the wires, and on the floor, — while the 
mischief-maker circled around, filling the air 
with shrieks, then suddenly dropped to the 
round of a chair and calmly dressed his feath- 
ers, as if he had merely been exercising his 
wings. 

Poor little fellow ! he was hardly more than 
a baby, and not very brave. A big grasshopper 
which once got into the room afforded him 
great excitement and the spectators much 
amusement. He saw it before his cage was 
opened, and as soon as he came out he went 
after it. The insect hopped up three feet, and 
so startled the bird that he jumped almost as 
high. When it alighted he picked it up, but 
seeming not to know what to do with it, soon 
dropped it. Again it hopped, and again the 
jay repeated his bound ; and this performance 
went on for some minutes, one of the drollest of 
sights, — his cautious approach, the spring of 
the insect, and his instant copy of the same, as 
if in emulation. After being picked up several 
times the grasshopper was disabled ; then when 



AFRAID OF A TREE. 201 

the bird came near, it lifted its wings, plainly 
to scare its persecutor ; it did awe him. Mean- 
while an orchard oriole had been eagerly look- 
ing on, and on one occasion that the grasshopper 
was dropped he pounced upon it and carried it 
off to a chair, where he proceeded to eat it, 
though it was so bio; as to be almost unmanage- 
able. The jay did not like being deprived of 
his plaything. He ran after the thief, and 
stood on the floor, uttering a low cry while 
watching the operation. In the oriole's moving 
the clumsy insect fell to the floor, when the jay 
snatched it : and it was evident that he had got 
a new idea about its use, for he carried it under 
a chair and demolished it completely, — not 
even a wing remained. 

More disturbing to the jay, strange as it may 
seem, was a tree. It was really touching to see 
a bird afraid of this, but the poor youngster had 
been taken from the nest to a house. A Christ- 
mas tree was brought into the bird-room to 
please the residents there, when, to our amaze- 
ment, the jay went into a wild fright, flew 
madly around near the ceiling, squawking, and 
making the other birds think something terri- 
ble had happened. He flew till he was breath- 
less, and was evidently very much distressed. 
For three or four days he was equally alarmed 
the moment he caught sight of it in the morn- 



202 HIDING THE LEAVES. 

ing and whenever I moved it an inch, though 
the other birds liked it and were on it half the 
time. When he did get used to it he did not 
go upon it, but to the standard below, where 
he could pick the needle-like leaves and carry 
them off to hide about the room. 

The blue-jay took his bath in an original way 
as he did everything else. First, he stood be- 
side the wide, shallow dish, looked at it, then 
at me and all around the room, one wing droop- 
ing and the other laid jauntily over the back, 
while he talked in a low tone, as if he said, " If 
anybody is going to object, now is the time." 
No one ventured to dispute his right, and sud- 
denly he plumped into the middle, neither 
alighting on the edge nor testing the water. 
Then there was a lively frolic, with tail spread, 
crest raised, wings beating, and the water flying 
several feet around. He was a very beautiful 
bird when in perfect plumage. There were six 
distinct shades of blue, besides rich velvety 
black, snowy white, delicate dove color, and 
blue-gray. He is too well known to need de- 
scription, but a jay is not often so closely seen 
when alive and in perfection of plumage. This 
bird had a charming way of folding his wings 
that hid all the plain blue-gray. When held 
thus and laid together over the back, there were 
displayed first the beautiful tail, with broad 



BEAUTIFUL DRESS. 203 

white edges to the feathers ; above it the wings 
looking like a square cut mantle, of the same 
colors ; above this a deep pointed shoulder cape, 
of rich violet blue, the feathers fluffed up 
loosely; and at the top of all, his exquisite 
crest. 



VIRGINIA'S WOOING. 



For who the pleasure of the spring shall tell, 
When on the leafless stalk the brown buds swell, 
When the grass brightens and the days grow long, 
And little birds break out in rippling song. 

Celia Thaxteb. 



XII. 

VIRGINIA'S WOOING. 



You must know in the beginning that Vir- 
ginia wore feathers. But she had as many tri- 
als with her suitors as though she dressed in 
silks, and she displayed so much of what we 
call "human nature " that her story is as inter- 
esting as that of half the Ethels and Margue- 
rites of the romances. 

She came of a good old family, the Cardinals, 
and, belonging to the Virginia branch, was 
called properly Virginia Cardinal, or, in scien- 
tific fashion, Cardinalis Virginianus. She was 
a beauty, too. It is well known that the cardi- 
nal himself has a full suit of the most brilliant 
red, but it is not so familiar a fact that the 
dames of the tribe are more modest and wear 
the family colors simply as linings and in sub- 
dued tints : rich rose-colored wing-facings, light 
coral-hued beak, delicate pink crest, all toned 
down by the soft olive brown of the breast and 
back, over which is everywhere a lovely sugges- 
tion of red. 



208 HER FIRST ADMIRER. 

The home of Virginia, when she came to the 
bird-room, was a large cage by the window; 
that of the cardinal being next to it, equally 
commodious, but a little farther from the light. 
This personage, her first admirer, made the 
mistake that larger suitors sometimes fall into, 
with equally disastrous results, — he " took 
things for granted." Between the cages was a 
door, but, to try the temper of the birds, it was 
at first closed. The cardinal was evidently 
pleased with his lovely neighbor ; he went as 
near to her as he could get, and uttered some 
low remarks, to which she listened, but did not 
reply. Later, when a meal-worm was given to 
him, he did not eat it, but held it in his beak, 
hopped over to her side, tried to get through 
the wires, and plainly thought of offering it to 
her. His disposition appearing so friendly, a 
human hand interposed and opened the door. 
Instantly he went into her cage, and apparently 
thinking better of the intended offering he ate 
it himself, and proceeded to investigate her food- 
dishes and try the seed, then hopped back and 
forth between the two cages, and at last selected 
the perch he preferred and took possession. He 
paid no attention to her in the way of recogniz- 
ing her ownership, which he would naturally 
do to another bird ; he assumed that whatever 
belonged to the cardinal family belonged to 






.4 A11XD OF HER OWN. 209 

hiin ; perhaps he even thought she went with 
the house, — it certainly looked as though he 
did. 

But the little dame had a mind of her own. 
On his first intrusion she vacated her home 
and passed into his. When he appeared in his 
cage she quietly hopped back; on his return 
she changed cages with equal alacrity ; when 
he settled himself on her perch, she was quite 
contented on his. There was no dispute, no 
warfare; she simply said, in manner, "All 
right, my friend, select your abode, and I '11 
take the other. I 'm satisfied with either, but I 
intend to have it to myself." After awhile it 
seemed to strike his lordship that she avoided 
him, and he resolved to settle that matter ; here 
making his second mistake, in trying to force 
instead of to win. He entered the cage where 
she sat quietly, and flew at her. She dodged 
him and took refuge in the other apartment ; 
he followed ; and thus they rushed back and 
forth several times, till she stopped for breath 
on a lower perch, while he was on an upper 
one in the same cage. Then he leaned far 
over and fixed his eyes on her, crest raised to 
its gre ight, wings held slightly out, and 

addressed her in a very low but distinct song, 
which resembled the syllables "cur-dle-e! cur- 
dle-e ! cr-r-r M ; the latter sounding almost like 



210 VIOLENT WOOING. 

a cat's purr. After singing this several times, 
and being slighted by her leaving the cage, he 
laid his crest flat down, muttered something so 
low that it could not be noted, and looked 
very much put out. Soon, however, he shook 
his feathers violently, flung himself at her, and 
she dodged, as before. When both happened 
to be for a moment in their own cages, the door 
was suddenly closed between, and each had his 
own, as at first. Madam was delighted, but 
the cardinal resented it; he tried to remove 
the obnoxious barrier, pecked at it, shook it, 
and could not be reconciled. He grew hungry 
and was obliged to eat, but between every two 
seeds he returned to struggle with the bars that 
kept him from her. Meanwhile Virginia had 
apparently forgotten all about him, eating and 
making her toilet for the night, as cheerful as 
usual. 

The next morning, the outside doors of the 
two cages were opened, and both birds at once 
came out into the room. The cardinal, not yet 
over his tiff of the evening before, took wing 
for the trees outside the windows, and brought 
up, of course, against the glass. He was 
greatly disappointed. He alighted on top of 
the lower sash, tested, examined, and tried to 
solve the mystery. Virginia, too, tried to go 
through the pane, but learned in one lesson that 



HE WAS -NOT RECEIVING." 211 

it was useless. She did not care much about 
it any way, for she was perfectly contented in- 
side. She went around the room, hovering 
slowly under the ceiling, which is always of 
interest to birds, and then set herself to work 
in a most systematic manner to find out all 
about the new world she was in. She examined 
the outside perches and tried each one; she 
explored the bathing table, flirted out a little 
water from the dishes, and at last thought it 
time to make acquaintance with her neighbors. 
She began with the robin, and flew to his 
roof. The robin was not pleased, snapped at her, 
opened his mouth, uttered a queer low robin-cry, 
" seep," and pecked at her feet, while she stood 
quietly looking down at the show from above, 
as much interested as though it were arranged 
to amuse her. At length she began to make 
the more formal visit. She dropped to the 
door-perch and approached the entrance. The 
inhospitable owner met her there, not to wel- 
come and invite her in, but to warn her out! 
He lowered his head, opened his beak, and 
bowed t<> her, looking very wicked indeed. It 
was plain that he was " not receiving '" that 
morning. Bui Virginia had come to call, and 
call Bhe would. Nothing daunted by his cool- 
ness, she hopped in. The robin was amazed; 
then declared war in his peculiar way, — first a 



212 THE ROBIN DECLARES WAR. 

hop of six inches, with wings spread, then a 
savage clatter of the bill. His guest met this 
demonstration quite calmly. She lowered her 
head, to defend herself if necessary, but made 
no other movement. Her calmness filled the 
robin with horror ; he fled the cage. Then she 
went all over it, and satisfied herself that it 
was much like her own, only the food-dish was 
filled with some uneatable black stuff, instead 
of the vegetarian food she preferred. She soon 
departed. 

Meanwhile the cardinal was wasting his time 
over the window problem, touching the glass 
with his beak, flying up a few inches before 
it, gently tapping the pane as he went. It was 
two or three days before he made up his mind 
he could not get through. After that he was 
as indifferent to the outside as any bird in the 
room, and turned his attention once more to 
Virginia. Whenever they were in their cages, 
with the door open between, he assumed the 
lord-and-mastership of the two ; he drove her 
away from her own food- cups, usurped her 
perch and her cage, and made himself disagree- 
able generally. Finally, one day when she was 
sitting quietly on the upper perch of his deserted 
cage, he came into the same cage, and, resting 
on the low perch close to the door, his tail 
hanging outside, began a low call, a curious 



VIRGINIA GROWS UNEASY. 213 

sort of " e-up, v with a jerk on the second syl- 
lable. Though a common enough sound for a 
cardinal, this plainly meant more than was ap- 
parent to human spectators. Virginia at once 
grew uneasy, hopped across the upper perches, 
and when her nervousness became too great 
dashed down past him, though lie was partly in 
the doorway, and into her own cage, where she 
resumed her restless jumps. He was not pleased 
with her reception of his attentions ; he sat a 
long time in that attitude, perfectly still, per- 
haps meditating what step he should take next, 
glancing at her meanwhile over his shoulder, 
but not stirring a feather. Time passed, and 
he came to a decision of some sort, which was 
shown by a change of position. He turned 
around, and took his seat on the corresponding 
perch in her cage, just before the door. This 
impressed Virginia ; she stopped her hopping 
and looked over at him with an air of wonder- 
ing what he would do next. What he did was 
to hop one step nearer, to the middle perch. 
Upon this she abandoned her place, came to 
the floor, and began to eat in the most indiffer- 
ent manner; then passed into his cage, then 
back t<> the floor of her own, still eating, while 
he sat silent and motionless on the middle 
perch, evidently much disturbed by her con- 
duct. After an hour of this performance he 
retired to her upper perch, and stayed there. 



214 JEALOUSY AROUSED. 

The same day, the jealousy of the unsuccess- 
ful wooer was aroused by a fine, fresh-looking 
cardinal whom he saw in the looking-glass. In 
flying past it he caught a glimpse of his reflec- 
tion, and at once turned, alighted before it, and 
began calling vehemently; holding out, and 
quivering his wings, and flying up against the 
figure again and again in the most savage way. 
The next day he began to mope and refused 
to come out of the cage ; whether because of 
illness, or disappointed affections, who shall 
say? 

The time of her tormentor's retirement was 
one of great happiness to Virginia. She paid 
her usual visit to the robin, and he, as at first, 
vacated the cage, this having become the reg- 
ular morning programme. Now, too, she went 
on to extend her acquaintance by entering the 
cage of another neighbor, a scarlet tanager, a 
shy, unobtrusive fellow, who asked nothing but 
to be let alone. This bird also did not re- 
ciprocate her neighborly sentiments ; he met 
her with open beak, but finding that did not 
awe her, nor prevent her calmly walking in, he 
hastily left the cage himself. During the time 
that her persecutor was sulking, and not likely 
to bother, she had leisure for the bath, which 
she enjoyed freely, coming out with her long 
breast -feathers hanging in locks and looking 



VISITING THE ORIOLES, 215 

like a bundle of rags. Her last experimental 
call was now made upon another household, the 
Baltimore orioles, and there she met with some- 
thing new — perfect indifference. Even when 
both of the birds were at home they did not 
resent her coming in. She went to the upper 
perch with them ; the cage was big, there was 
plenty of room, and they were willing. Their 
manners, in fact, were so agreeable that if 
their cups had been supplied with seed, I think 
she would have taken up her abode with them ; 
as it was, she frequently spent half an hour at 
a time there. On this eventful day Virginia be- 
gan to sing, for in her family the musical per- 
formances are not confined to the males. 

After several days of retirement, the cardinal 
plucked up spirit to resume his annoyance of 
Virginia, and for a few nights a queer sort of 
game was played by the two, explain it who 
can. If the barrier between the cages was re- 
moved after the outside doors were shut for the 
night, he at once went to her cage and to the 
middle perch. Virginia, on the upper perch, 
waited till he reached that spot, then dropped 
to the floor, slipped through the door into his 
cage, and went to the upper perches there, 
where she hopped back and forth, while he 
did the same in her cage. Suddenly, after a 
few moments, down he came again through the 



216 DEATH OF THE PERSECUTOR. 

door to his own middle perch, when instantly, 
as before, she retreated into her cage. Thus 
they went on an hour at a time ; he apparently 
following her from one cage to another, and she 
declining to occupy the same apartment with 
him. Occasionally it was not so calm ; he lost 
his temper, or grew tired of trying to please ; 
once or twice, without warning, he lowered his 
head, looked ugly, and fairly burst into her cage 
and flung himself at her. She dived under or 
bounded over a perch, any way to escape him, 
and took refuge in the other cage. 

This could not go on long ; the cardinal lost 
interest in everything, took to moping, and at 
last died, — disappointed affection, shall we say, 
or what ? Virginia was relieved ; she sang 
more and in a louder tone, hopping around 
her cage with a seed in her mouth, flying 
through the room, or splashing in the bath ; in 
fact she was bubbling over with song all the 
time, as if she were so happy she could not 
keep still. She paid her daily visits to the 
cages, forcing the robin to take an outing, 
which he did not care to do while moulting 
and not very sure of his powers. 

Many birds show emotions by raising the 
feathers on different parts of the body, but 
this bird was remarkable in the expression of 
her crest alone. When she peeped into a 



ARRIVAL OF A STRANGER. 217 

strange cage, and was somewhat uncertain of 
her reception, the crest laid flat down, her very 
head seemed to shrink: she stepped in at the 
door, excited, for it might be peace and it might 
be war ; the feathers rose and fell alternately ; 
if suddenly startled, the crest sprang to its high- 
est point ; and when singing, or passing peace- 
fully about the room, it dropped carelessly back 
on her head. 

Virginia was allowed a week's solitary enjoy- 
ment of the two cages, and then one day a new 
tenant appeared in the cardinal's quarters. She 
was out in the room when he arrived, but she 
instantly came over and alighted on his roof, to 
have a look at him. Most expressive was her 
manner. She stood in silence and gazed upon 
him a long time ; all her liveliness and gayety 
were gone, and she appeared to be struck dumb 
by this new complication of her affairs. It was 
plain that she was not pleased. Perhaps her 
dislike was evident to the new bird, for sud- 
denly he flew up and snapped at her, which 
so surprised her that she hopped a foot into 
the air. When the time came to open the door 
into her cage, the stranger was delighted to go 
in, but Virginia dodged him, exactly as she 
had done his predecessor. He did not lose 
his temper and condescend to the vulgarity of 
flying at her, as the first admirer had done. 



218 VIRGINIA WAS LONELY. 

He looked interested to see that she avoided 
him, but after all he did not take it much to 
heart. This cardinal, like the other, was not 
yet acclimated — if one may call it so — to life 
in a house, and after a week he also took his 
departure. 

Now Virginia, free again, became at once 
very gay. She sang all the time ; she kept 
the robin stirring ; she bathed ; she waxed fat. 
But her time was approaching. Spring came 
on, and with the first warm weather the birds 
began to disappear from the room. First the 
tanager expressed a desire to mingle with so- 
ciety once more, and went his way ; then the 
orioles were sent to carry on their rough woo- 
ing in the big world outside; the robin fol- 
lowed ; and at last Virginia was left with sev- 
eral big empty cages and only two birds, a re- 
served and solitude-loving Mexican clarin, and 
a saucy goldfinch, so long a captive that he had 
no desire for freedom. Now for the first time 
Virginia was lonely ; the strange quiet of the 
once lively room worked upon her temper. She 
snapped at her little neighbor ; she haunted the 
window-sill and gazed out ; while nothing hin- 
dered her passage excepting the weather, our 
climate being rather cool for her. 

At last July, with its great heat, arrived, and 
the restless bird was carried by a kind friend, 



THE THIRD SUITOR. 219 

who offered to do this good deed, to a place 
in Central Park, New York, where a small 
colony of her kind have established them- 
selves and build and nest every year. Here 
she was set free, and here she met her third 
suitor. The place and the season were propi- 
tious, and Virginia was ready to look with 
favor on a smart young cardinal in the bright- 
est of coats, who came in response to her calls 
the moment she found herself on a tree, really 
out in the world. A little coaxing, a few tender 
words, and she flew away with him, and we saw 
her no more. 



FRIENDSHIP IN FEATHERS. 



Why should I cumber myself with regrets that the receiver 
is not capacious ? It never troubles the sun that some of his 
rays fall wide and vain into ungrateful space, and only a small 
part on the reflecting planet. Emerson. 



XIII. 
FRIENDSHIP IN FEATHERS. 



Emerson somewhere speaks of a friendship 
" on one side, without due correspondence on 
the other," and I often thought of it while 
watching the curious relation between two 
birds in nay house last winter ; for the more 
one studies our feathered neighbors, the better 
he conies to realize that the difference between 
their intelligence and that of man himself is 
M only of less and more." 

This friendship, then, was all on one side. It 
was not a case of " love at sight " ; on the con- 
trary, it was first war, and the birds had been 
room-mates for months before any unusual 
interest was shown ; neither was it simple ad- 
miration of beauty, for the recipient of the 
tenderness was at his worst at the moment ; 
nor, again, could it be the necessity of loving 
somebody, for the devotee had lived in the 
house ten years, and had seen forty birds of 
almost as many kinds come and go, without 



224 HIS MARRIAGE DRESS. 

exhibiting any partiality. The parties to this 
curious affair were, first, the beloved, a male 
scarlet tanager, whose summer coat was disfig- 
ured with patches of the winter dress he was 
trying to put on ; and secondly, the lover, a 
male English goldfinch, scarcely half his size. 
The tanager, as perhaps every one knows, is 
one of our most brilliant birds, bright scarlet 
with black wings and tail. He is as shy as he 
is gay, living usually in the woods, and not 
taking at all kindly to the enforced companion- 
ship of mankind. I had long been anxious to 
make the acquaintance of this retiring bird, 
partly because I desire to know personally all 
American birds, and partly because I wanted 
to watch his change of plumage ; for the scarlet 
uniform is only the marriage dress, and put off 
at the end of the season. Hence whenever I 
saw a tanager in a New York bird store I 
brought it home, though dealers always warned 
me that it would not live in confinement. My 
first attempts were disastrous, certainly. The 
birds refused to become reconciled, even with 
all the privileges I gave them, and one after 
another died, I believe for no other reason than 
their longing for freedom. Let me say here 
that feeling thus, they would have received 
their liberty, much as I wished to study them, 
only their plumage was not in condition to fly, 



THE TANAGER ASTONISHED, 225 

and they would go out to certain death. My 
hope was to make them contented through the 
winter, while they put on a new suit of feath- 
ers, and open the doors for them in summer. 

The subject of this tale, and the last of the 
series, I procured of a dealer who has learned 
to keep tanagers in good condition, and I never 
had trouble with this bird's health or spirits. 
It was not until May that he wished to leave 
me. When he joined the circle in the room he 
had just thoroughly learned that a cage was a 
place he could not get out of, and he had ceased 
to try. The first morning when his neighbors 
came out of their cages he was as much aston- 
ished as if he had never seen birds out of a 
bird store. He stretched up and looked at 
them with the greatest interest. When one 
or two began to splash in the large shallow 
bathing dishes on the table, he was much 
excited, and plainly desired to join them. I 
opened his door and placed in it a long perch 
leading to freedom. For some time he did not 
come out, and when he did, the sudden liberty 
drove out of his head all thoughts of a bath. 
When he flew, he aimed straight for the trees 
outside the window, and of course came vio- 
lently against the glass. 

This experience all house birds have to go 
through, and it is sometimes several days before 



226 TEE PROBLEM OF THE GLASS. 

they learn the nature of glass. The tanager 
learned his lesson more quickly. He fell to the 
floor at first, from the shock, but in a few 
moments recovered himself and returned, this 
time alighting on the top of the lower sash and 
proceeding to examine the strange substance 
through which he could see, but could not go. 
He gently tapped the glass with his beak the 
whole length of the window, passing back and 
forth several times till satisfied. Turning at 
last from that, he cast his eye around for an- 
other exit, and settled on the white ceiling as 
the most likely place. Then he flew all about 
the room close to the ceiling, touched it now 
and then with his beak, and finding it also im- 
passable, he came down to the window again. 
He had not the least curiosity about the room, 
and was not at all afraid of me. The world 
outside the windows and his cage when he was 
hungry, were all that he cared for at present 
— except the bath. 

The goldfinch was bathing the second time 
he came out, and he went directly to the table 
and perched on the side of the dish. Now the 
one thing the little fellow most delighted in was 
his morning bath, and he at once resented the 
intrusion of the stranger. He flew at him with 
open beak and lifted wings, scolding vigorously, 
in fact gave him so hostile a reception that he 



GIVING UP TEE WORLD. 227 

quickly retired to the top of a cage, where he 
stood a long time. Afterward also, the gold- 
finch showed so strong a determination that 
the intruder should not enjoy his beloved bath, 
that at last I had to keep him in his cage while 
the new-comer had a chance at the water. 

This did not go on long, however, for very 
soon the tanager deliberately gave up the 
world of the bird-room, and insisted on remain- 
ing in his cage. In vain was his door set open 
with the others, in vain did the birds splash 
and splatter the water, he would not come out, 
though he did not mope or lose his appetite. 
In truth, it seemed merely as if he scorned the 
advantages offered; if he could not go out free 
into the trees, he would as lief stay in his cage 
— and he did. This is a not uncommon habit 
of cage birds. They often need to be driven 
or coaxed out. Having once learned that the 
cage is home with all its comforts and conven- 
iences, they prefer to be there. 

The tanager was always a very shy bird ; he 
did not like to be looked at. If he could man- 
age it, he would never eat while any one saw 
him. Often, when I put a bit of apple or a 
meal-worm in his cage, he stood and looked at 
it and at me, but did not move till I turned 
away, or walked out of his sight, when he 
instantly pounced upon it as if starved. To 



228 EATING BEHIND A SCREEN. 

make him altogether happy I put a screen 
around one corner of his cage, behind which 
were his dishes, and after that it was very droll 
to see him crouch behind that and eat, every 
moment or two stretching up to glance over the 
top and see if I had moved. If I stirred as 
though about to leave my chair, he at once 
whisked to the upper perch as if he had been 
caught in a crime. 

The first I noticed of the goldfinch's friendli- 
ness to him was after he had lived with us five 
or six months. 

This small bird, in a room of larger ones, 
was somewhat driven about. I do not mean 
hurt, but if any one wanted a certain perch he 
did not hesitate to take it, even if it were 
already occupied by so little a fellow. He soon 
learned that near the tanager he was not often 
molested, and he began first to frequent the 
perch that ran out of the cage — the doorstep 
in fact. Finding that he was not disturbed, he 
soon moved his quarters just inside the door. 
Most birds quickly resent the intrusion of an- 
other into their cage, but the tanager never did. 
So long as he was left alone on his favorite 
upper perches, he did not care who went in 
below. This being the case, after a while the 
goldfinch ventured upon the middle perch. 
Still he was not noticed ; but presuming on the 



BECOMING THE PROTECTOR. 229 

friendly attitude of his host, he one day hopped 
upon the perch beside him. This was a step 
too far; the house-owner turned an open beak 
toward him, and in unmistakable tones told 
him to leave — which he at once did, of course. 

This boundary made by the tanager was 
never changed, but in the rest of the cage the 
goldfinch made himself at home, and at once 
assumed the position of protector. Seeing that 
the owner did not, — and sure it was some- 
body's duty, — he began to guard the door, 
warning away any one who wished to enter, 
with harsh scolding, fluttering of wings, and 
swelling up of his little body, amusing to see. 
The boldest bird in the room was awed by 
these demonstrations coming from the inside as 
though the cage were his own. The tanager 
looked on all this with some interest, but ex- 
pressed no more gratitude at being protected 
than he had resentment at being driven from 
the bath. 

Soon I noticed a certain chattering talk from 
the small bird that he had never indulged in 
excepting to another of his kind — his compan- 
ion when he first came to me. It was very low 
but almost continuous, and was plainly ad- 
dressed to the tanager. As his friendliness 
progressed, he found the lower perch too far 
from his charmer, and not being allowed to sit 



230 AN UNCOMFORTABLE PERCH. 

beside him he took to clinging upon the outside 
of the cage as near to the tanager's usual seat 
as he could get. The only perching place he 
had there was a band of tin that held the wires 
steady, but in spite of what must have been 
the discomfort of the position, there he hung by 
the hour, talking, calling, and looking at his 
idol within. He left the spot only to eat and 
bathe, and I think if the cage had been sup- 
plied with seed he would never have gone at 
all. When the bird inside hopped to the perch 
at the other end of the cage, which was the 
extent of his wanderings, the finch at once fol- 
lowed on the outside, always placing himself as 
near as possible. It was really touching, to all 
but the object of it, who took it in the most 
indifferent way. When the tanager went down 
to eat, his escort accompanied him as far as 
the door perch, where he stood and looked on 
earnestly, ready to return to his old place the 
moment the luncheon was finished. 

On the rare occasions that the self-elected 
hermit went out, the goldfinch displayed great 
concern, evidently preferring to have his favor- 
ite at home where he could defend him. He 
flew uneasily across from the cage to his side, 
then back, as if to show him the wav. He also 
desired to watch the empty house, to preserve 
it from intrusion, but was constantly divided 



TOUCHING AFFECT I OX. 231 

between his duties of special porter, and body- 
guard. But he did his best, even then ; he fol- 
lowed the wanderer. If the tanager went to a 
perch the goldfinch at once alighted on the same, 
about a foot away, and sidled up as near as he 
was allowed. He was free to come within about 
three inches, but nearer he was driven off, so 
the little fellow placed himself at this distance 
and there stayed patiently as long as his friend 
remained. If the latter had been more respon- 
sive, I believe the goldfinch would have nestled 
up against him. 

The tanager sometimes strayed into a strange 
cage, and then the anxious guard followed to 
the steps and even within, talking earnestly, 
and no doubt pointing out the danger, yet if 
the owner unexpectedly appeared he met him 
at the threshold and fiercely defended the door 
against the proprietor himself. Occasionally 
the erratic recluse went to the floor — a place 
never visited by his little attendant, whose 
trouble was almost painful to see. He at once 
placed himself on the lowest perch, stretched 
out and looked over, following every movement 
with his eyes, in silence, as though the danger 
was too great to allow conversation, and when 
his charge returned to a perch, he uttered a loud 
and joyous call as though some peril had been 
escaped. 



232 A SAUCY BRAZILIAN. 

The stanch little friend had many chances to 
show his loyalty. The other birds in the room 
were not slow to take advantage of one who 
never defended himself. In particular a Bra- 
zilian cardinal, a bold saucy fellow with a scar- 
let pointed crest and a loud voice, evidently con- 
sidered the tanager cage common ground, open 
to everybody, until the goldfinch undertook its 
defense. It was amusing to see the small bird 
stand just inside, and rage, puff himself out, 
wave his wings, and fairly drive away the foe. 
So impertinent was the Brazilian that the finch 
declared general war upon him, and actually 
chased his big antagonist around the room and 
away from his favorite perches, hovering over 
his head, and flying around it in small circles, 
trying to peck it, till he flew away defeated, 
probably because he was too much amazed to 
think of resisting. 

This was not, however, the worst enemy he 
had to deal with. Next door to the tanager 
lived a robin, a big, rollicking, fun-loving fel- 
low who considered such a retiring personage 
fair game. His pleasure was to see that the 
tanager went out every day, and he made it his 
business to enforce the regulation he had set up. 
His tactics were to jump upon the roof of the 
cage, coming down violently just over the head 
of the tanager, who, of course, hopped quickly 



AN UNEQUAL CONTEST. 233 

to the other perch. Then the robin began a 
mad war-dance across the cage, wings held up, 
tail spread, bill clattering, and altogether look- 
ing as full of mischief as any bad boy one ever 
saw, while the tanager went wild below, flying 
in a panic back and forth, but not for some 
time thinking of leaving the cage. The in- 
stant this performance began, the little cham- 
pion was upon him ; he alighted at one end of 
the short tramping ground on the cage, and 
met his big foe with open beak and every sign 
of war. The robin simply lowered his head 
and went for him, and the little bird had to fly. 
He pluckily returned at once to the other end 
and faced him again. 

Observing that the goldfinch alone was not 
able to keep the robin away, I provided the 
cage with a roof of paper, which is usually a per- 
fect protection, since birds dislike the rustle. It 
did not dismay this naughty fellow, however ; 
on the contrary, it gave an added zest because 
of that very quality. He pranced across it in 
glee, making a great noise, and when the vio- 
lence of his movements pushed it aside, he 
peered down on the tanager, who stood pant- 
ing. The sight pleased him, and he resumed 
his pranks ; he lifted the handle of the cage 
and let it drop with a clatter; he jerked off 
bits of paper and dropped them into the cage, 



234 RE ASSUMING THE TANAGER. 

and in every way showed a very mischievous 
spirit. Meanwhile, all through the confusion 
the goldfinch scolded furiously, flying around to 
get a peck at him, and in every way challenging 
him to fight. Occasionally, when he became too 
troublesome, the robin turned and snapped his 
beak at him, but did not choose to leave the 
bigger game. 

When at last he tired of his fun, or was 
driven away, the goldfinch flew to the side of 
the cage where the frightened tanager had 
taken refuge, though there was not even a strip 
of tin to hold on, uttered his loud cheerful call 
several times, plainly congratulating and re- 
assuring him, and telling him all was safe ; and 
here he clung with difficulty to the upright 
wires, all the time slipping down, till the tan- 
ager went to the upper regions again. Every 
time the robin so much as flew past, the tireless 
little fellow rushed out at him, scolding. When 
finally the robin went into his own cage, and the 
tanager returned to his usual place, the gold- 
finch at once assumed his uncomfortable perch 
and sang a loud sweet song, wriggling his body 
from side to side, and expressing triumph and 
delight in a remarkable way. 

The approach of spring made a change in 
the tanager. He had not so completely given 
up the world as it appeared. He began to 



OFFENSIVE OPERATIONS. 235 

chirp, to call, and at last to sing. He was 
still so shy he went down behind his screen 
to sing, but sing he must and did. Now, too, 
he began to resent the attentions of his ad- 
mirer, occasionally giving the poor little toes 
a nip, as they clung to the tin band near his 
seat. He also went out now, and turned an 
open beak upon his friend. From simply en- 
during him, he suddenly began offensive opera- 
tions against him. Poor little lover! an un- 
grateful peck did not drive him away, but sim- 
ply made him move a little farther off, and 
stopped his gentle twittering talk a while. But 
the tanager grew more and more belligerent. 
He came out every day, took soaking baths, and 
returned to his examination of the windows, 
for the trees were green outside, and plainly he 
longed to be on them. He stood and looked 
out, and called, and held his wings up level 
with his back, fluttering them gently. 

All this time the devotion of the little one 
never changed, though it was so badly received. 
When the tanager turned savagely and gave his 
faithful friend a severe peck, instead of re- 
senting it the hurt bird flew to another perch, 
where he stood a long time, uttering occasion- 
ally a low, plaintive call, as if of reproach, all 
his cheerfulness gone, a melancholy sight in- 
deed. I waited only for warm days to set free 



236 AWAY HE GOES. 

the tanager, and at last they came. Early in 
June the bird was put into a traveling cage, 
carried into the country, where a lovely bit of 
woods and a pretty lake insured a good living, 
and the absence of sparrows made it safe for a 
bird that had been caged. Then the door was 
opened, and he instantly flew out of sight. 

The bird left at home seemed a little lost 
for a few days, moped about, often visited the 
empty cage, but in a short time entirely aban- 
doned it, and evidently looked no more for his 
friend. But he is changed too: not quite so 
gay as before ; not so much singing; and not a 
word of the soft chattering talk we heard so 
constantly while his beloved friend was here. 



THE ROSY SHIELD. 



Soft falls his chant as on the nest 

Beneath the sunny zone, 
For love that stirred it in his breast 

Has not aweary grown, 
And 'neath the city's shade can keep 
The well of music clear and deep. 

And love that keeps the music, fills 

With pastorial memories. 
All echoing from out the hills, 

All droppings from the skies, 
All Sowings from the wave and wind 
Remembered in the chant I find. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 



XIV. 
THE ROSY SHIELD. 



Oxe of the most winning inhabitants of my 
bird-room last winter bore on his snow-white 
breast a pointed shield of beautiful rose-color, 
and the same rich hue lined his wings. With 
these exceptions his dress was of sober black 
and white, though so attractively disposed that 
he was an extremely pretty bird — the rose- 
breasted grosbeak. 

Nor was beauty his only attraction ; he was a 
peculiar character, in every way different from 
his neighbors. He was dignified, yet his dig- 
nity was not like that of a thrush ; he was 
calm and cool, yet not after the manner of an 
orchard oriole. He possessed a lovely gentle- 
ness of disposition, and a repose of manner un- 
paralleled among my birds. Vulgar restless- 
was unknown to him ; flying about for 
exercise, or hopping from perch to perch 
to pass away time, he scorned. The frivolous 
way common to smaller birds of going for each 



240 HE CHOSE A CORNER. 

seed as they want it, was beneath him. When 
he wished to eat he did so like a civilised 
being, that is, took his stand by the seed-cup, 
and stayed there, attending strictly to the busi- 
ness in hand till he had finished, leaving a neat 
pile of canary-seed shells in one spot, instead of 
the general litter common to cages. The meal 
over, he was ready to go out of the cage, place 
himself comfortably in one of his favorite cor- 
ners, and remain for a long time, amused with 
the life in the room and the doings in the 
street, on both of which he seemed to look 
with the eye of a philosopher. In the same 
deliberate and characteristic way he disposed 
of a meal-worm, or a bit of beef, which he 
enjoyed. He never bolted it outright like a 
thrush, nor beat it to death like a tanager, nor 
held it under one toe and took it in mouthfuls 
like an oriole : he quietly worked it back and 
forth between his mandibles till reduced to a 
pulp, and then swallowed it. 

The rosy shield-bearer was preeminently a 
creature of habit. Very early in his life with, 
us he selected certain resting places for his pri- 
vate use, and all the months of his stay he never 
changed them. The one preferred above all 
others was the middle bar of the window-sash, 
in the corner, and I noticed that his choice was 
always a corner. In this sunny spot he spent 



.4 BIRD OF OP I XI < 241 

most of the time, closely pressed against the 
window-casing, generally looking out at the 
trees and the sparrow-life upon them, and re- 
garding every passer-by in the street, not in an 
unhappy way, but apparently considering the 
whole a panorama for his entertainment. When 
events in the room interested him, his post of ob- 
servation was a bracket that held a small cage, 
where he often sat an hour at a time in perfect 
silence, looking at everybody, concerned about 
everything, his rosy shield and white breast ef- 
fectively set off by the dark paper behind him. 
Although thus immobile and silent, the gros- 
beak was far from being stupid. He had de- 
cided opinions and tastes as well defined as any- 
body's. For example, when he came to me his 
cage stood on a shelf next to that occupied by 
two orchard orioles, and he was never pleased 
with the position. He was hardly restless even 
there, while suffering what he plainly consid- 
ered a grievance, but he was uneasy. I saw 
that something was wrong, and guessed at once 
that it was because his upper perch was three 
inches lower than that in the next cage, and to 
have a neighbor higher than himself is always 
an offense to a bird. As soon as I raised his 
cage he was satisfied on that score, and no 
more disturbed me in the early morning by 
shufrling about on his perch and trying to fly 
upward. 



242 CONTENTED AND HAPPY. 

But still things were not quite to his mind, 
and he showed it by constantly going into the 
cage of the orioles and settling himself evidently 
with the desire of taking up his residence there. 
He was so gentle and unobtrusive everywhere, 
that no one resented his presence in the cage, 
and he could have lived in peace with almost 
any bird. But I wanted him contented at 
home, and moreover, I was curious to find out 
what was amiss, so I tried the experiment of re- 
moving his cage from its position next to the 
lively orioles, and hanging it alone between two 
windows, where, although not so light, it had 
the advantage of solitude. The change com- 
pleted the happiness of the grosbeak. From 
that day he no more intruded upon others, but 
went and came freely and joyously to his own 
cage, and from being hard to catch at night he 
became one of the most easy, proceeding the 
moment he entered his home toward dark to the 
upper perch to wait for me to close the door be- 
fore going to his seed-dish. In fact, he grew so 
contented that he cared little to come out, and 
often sat in his favorite corner of the cage by 
the hour, with the door wide open and the 
other birds flying around. Now, too, he began 
to sing in a sweet voice a very low and tender 
minor strain. 

Among his other peculiarities this bird 



DISTURBED BY AN OWL. 243 

scarcely ever seemed to feel the need of utter- 
ance of any sort. On the rare occasions of 
any excitement he delivered a sharp, metallic 
M click " : a sudden alarm, like the attack of 
another bird, called out a war-cry loud and 
shrill, and very odd ; and in the contest over 
the important question of precedence at the 
bath he sometimes uttered a droll squeal or 
whining sound. Besides these, he made singu- 
lar noises in bathing and dressing his feathers, 
which are not uncommon among birds, but are 
difficult to describe. They always remind me 
of the rubbing of machinery in need of oil. 

This beautiful bird was not easily frightened ; 
the only time I ever saw him seriously disturbed 
at the sight of a stuffed screech-owl, which 
I brought into the room without thinking of its 
probable effect. I placed it on a shelf in a 
closet, and I soon noticed that the moment the 
closet door was opened the grosbeak became 
greatly agitated ; he darted across the room to 
a certain retreat where he always hurried on 
the first alarm of any sort, and remained in re- 
tirement till the fancied danger was over, while 
the others flew madly about. In this place he 
stood posturing in much excitement, and utter- 
ing at short intervals his sharp " click." For 
some time I did not understand his conduct, 
nor think of connecting it with the owl on the 



244 THE LOOKING-GLASS. 

shelf ; but when it did occur to me I tried the 
experiment of bringing it out into the room, 
when I immediately saw, what I should have 
remembered at once, that it was an object of 
terror to all the birds. 

The song of the rose-breasted grosbeak is 
celebrated, and I hoped my bird would become 
acquainted with us, and let out his voice ; but 
I was disappointed in both respects, for he 
never became familiar in the least, and though 
not at all afraid he was very shy ; and further- 
more, upon my bringing into the room two 
small musical thrushes, the grosbeak — feeling, 
as I said, no need of utterance — readily re- 
lapsed into silence, and all the winter never 
sang a note. His conduct before the looking- 
glass indicated that he was not naturally so si- 
lent, and that he could be social with one who 
understood his language. Being unable to get 
another grosbeak, I tried to give him compan- 
ionship by placing a small glass against one end 
of his cage. On seeing his reflection the bird 
was greatly agitated, began his low, whining 
cry, postured, bowed, turned, moved back and 
forth, and at last left the cage and looked for 
the stranger behind the glass. Not finding him 
he returned, had another interview with the 
misleading image, and ended as before in seek- 
ing him outside. At length he seemed to be 



CURIOUS POSTURES. 245 

convinced that there was something not quite 
natural about it, for, feeling hungry, he went, 
with many a backward glance at the glass, to 
the floor, took a hemp-seed and carried it out 
into the room to eat, a thing he never did at 
any other time. 

I spoke of my bird's posturing ; that was one 
of his pleasures, and almost his only exercise 
while he lived in the house. He was not grace- 
ful, his body was not flexible, and his tail was 
far from being the expressive member it is 
with many birds, it always stood straight out ; 
he could raise it with a little jerk, and he had 
a beautiful way of opening it like a fan, but I 
never saw it droop or stir in any other way. In 
these movements his head and tail maintained 
the same relative position to the body, as though 
they were cut out of one piece of wood ; but 
he bowed and leaned far over on one side, with 
his short legs wide spread ; he passed down a 
perch, alternately crouching and rising, either 
sideways or straight ; he jerked his whole body 
one side and then the other, in a manner ludi- 
crously suggestive of a wriggle ; he sidled along 
his perch, holding his wings slightly out and 
quivering, then slowly raised them both straight 
up. and instantly dropped them, or held them 
half open. Battering and rustling his feathers. 

He had also a curious way of moving over a 



246 THRUST OUT HIS TONGUE. 

long perch : he proceeded by sidewise hops, and 
at each hop he turned half round, that is, the 
first step he faced the window, the next the 
room, the third the window again, and so on to 
the end, coming down at every jump as though 
he weighed a pound or two. He was much ad- 
dicted to sitting with breast-feathers puffed out 
covering his toes, or sometimes with wings held 
a little way from his body, showing the delicate 
rose-colored lining, as though conscious how 
pretty he looked; and among other eccentric 
habits he often thrust out his tongue, first one 
side and then the other, apparently to clean his 
bill. 

Bathing and getting dry was conducted by 
this peculiar bird in a manner characteristic of 
himself. Slow to make the plunge, he was 
equally deliberate in coming out of the bath. 
When fairly in, he first thrust his head under, 
then sat up in the drollest way, head quite out 
of water and tail lying flat on the bottom, while 
he spattered vigorously with wings and tail. 
"When he stepped out, the bath was over ; he 
never returned for a second dip, but passed at 
once to a favorite corner of the window-bar, and 
stood there a most disconsolate-looking object, 
shivering with cold, with plumage completely 
disheveled, but making not the least effort to 
dry his feathers for several minutes. If the sun 



BIRDS AT DUSK. 247 

shone, he indulged himself in a sunning, erecting 
the feathers of his chin till he looked as if he 
wore a black muffler, opening his tail like a fan, 
spreading and crossing his wings over the back. 
This attitude made a complete change in bis 
looks, showing white where black should be, 
and vice versa. This was the result of his pe- 
culiar coloring. Next the skin all feathers were 
the common slate-color, but outside of that each 
feather was black and white. On the back the 
black was at the tip, and the white between 
that and the slate-color ; on the breast this order 
was reversed, and the white at the tip. Thus 
when wet the white and black were confused, 
and he resembled an object in patch-work. 
The rose-colored shield was formed by the 
slightest possible tips of that color on the white 
ends, and it was wonderful that they should ar- 
range themselves in an unbroken figure, with a 
sharply defined outline, for each feather must 
have lain in its exact place to secure the result. 
The different ways in which birds greet ad- 
vancing night has long been a subject of inter- 
est to me, some restless and nervous, others 
calm, and a few wild and apparently frightened. 
In no one thing is there more individuality of 
action, and in my room that winter were exhib- 
ited every evening quite a variety of methods. 
A brown thrush or thrasher on the approach 



248 SLEPT AND DREAMED. 

of darkness became exceedingly restless, flying 
about his cage, going over and under and 
around his perches, posturing in extraordinary 
ways, uttering at every moment a strange, 
harsh-breathing sound. Two smaller thrushes 
met the evening hour by fluttering, and a queer 
sort of dance elsewhere described. Two orchard 
orioles saluted the twilight by gymnastics on 
the roof of the cage. The bluebirds made care- 
ful and deliberate arrangements for a comforta- 
ble night, while the grosbeak differed from all 
in simply fluffing himself out, and settling him- 
self, on the first hint of dark, in the chosen cor- 
ner, whence he scarcely moved, and as soon as 
objects grew indistinct he laid his head quietly 
in its feather pillow and stirred no more. The 
brightest gaslight an hour later did not disturb 
him ; if a noise wakened him, he simply looked 
up to see what was the matter, but did not 
move, and soon turned back to his rest, when 
slight jerks of his wings, and faint complain- 
ing sounds, told that he not only slept, but 
dreamed. 

The bearer of the rosy shield was a persistent 
individual ; having once taken a notion into his 
head, nothing would make him forget it or 
change his mind. Fully settled in his prefer- 
ence for a certain perch on the window, the 
coldest day in winter, with the wind blowing a 



DIGNIFIED AND PERSISTENT. 249 

gale through the crack between the sashes, 
would not make him desert it. Driving him 
away from the spot had not the slightest effect 
on him, he returned the moment he was left in 
peace. Thinking that another cage was more 
convenient for his use, nothing short of absolute 
shutting the door would keep him out of it. 
Nor did he forget about it either ; if the door 
was accidentally left open, after being closed 
for weeks, he entered as quickly as though he 
had been in every day. 

This bird never showed any playfulness of 
disposition ; indeed, he had too much dignity to 
do so. He never flew around the room as 
though he liked to use his wings, although they 
were perfect, and there was nothing to prevent 
if he chose. Nor did he display curiosity about 
his surroundings. The only things he appeared 
to notice were the doings of the birds and peo- 
ple in the room, and the moving panorama 
without, which latter he always viewed with 
equanimity, although the sound of a hand-organ 
aroused him to a sort of mild fury. 

As spring advanced, the beautiful grosbeak 
grew tuneful and often added his exquisite song 
to the rippling music of the small thrushes, and 
— with a little stretch of the imagination as to 
its duration — 

" Trilled from out his carmine breast, 
His happy breastj the livelong day." 



THE BIED OF MYSTERY. 



For me there is a mystery unrevealed ; 
Sweet Nature, speak to me ! 

Lucy Larcom. 



XV. 

THE BIRD OF MYSTERY. 



It is well that Nature has so carefully guarded 
the lives of her most beautiful birds, for it is 
a sad fact that, in the words of an eminent 
writer, "the winged order — the loftiest, the 
tenderest, the most sympathetic with man — is 
that which man nowadays pursues most cruelly." 
Had they been as accessible as sparrows, even 
although they equaled them in numbers, not 
one would by this time be alive on earth. 

The family whose extraordinary dress and 
mystery of origin justify its name — Birds of 
Paradise — is securely hidden in distant islands 
not friendly to bird-hunting races. Inacces- 
sible mountains and pathless forests repel the 
traveler; impassable ravines bar his advance; 
sickness and death lie in wait for the white 
man, while the native lurks with poisoned dart 
behind every bush. 

The first of the race that came to us were 
heralded by myth and invested with marvels : 



254 MARVELOUS STORIES. 

they had no feet; they slept upon the wing; 
they fed upon dew, and hatched their eggs 
upon their backs. Such were the tales that 
accompanied the skins, magnificent beyond any- 
thing known to the world in the glory of plu- 
mage, and they were named Birds of Paradise. 
But science is supposed in these days to con- 
quer all mysteries, and science armed itself 
with powder and shot, game bags, provision 
trains, and servants, and set out for the far- 
away inhospitable islands, the home of this, 
the most attractive of all. Science has solved 
many problems : the " Heart of Africa " has 
become a highway ; the Polar sea and the 
source of the Nile are no longer unknown ; 
but with her most persistent efforts during 
three hundred years she has not yet been 
able to give us the life history of this one 
feathered family. Many of her devotees have 
penetrated to its home and brought back fresh 
varieties; money, health, and life have been 
freely spent ; but, save for a few strange 
and curious facts, we know little more of the 
manner of life of the Birds of Paradise than 
we did when we depended on the native le- 
gends. How some of them look we know ; 
we have their skins wired into shape in our 
museums and gorgeously pictured in our books ; 
but every traveler finds new kinds, and how 



DANCING PARTIES. 255 

many sorts there may be which have so far 
eluded the few and short visits of naturalists, 
no one is able to tell. Even of those we have, 
how scant v is our knowledge ! What thev eat 
we are told ; how they bathe and dress their 
plumage ; their loud calls and unmusical voices ; 
the shyness of those whose conspicuous beauty 
a price upon their heads, and their M danc- 
ing parties/' so graphically described by Wal- 
lace : but of their nesting we are in profound 
ignorance. Where the gravely dressed part- 
ners of the brilliant creatures set up the hearth- 
stone none can tell, unless it be the mop-headed 
Papuan, and he will not. 

The colors lavished on the plumage would 
alone make the Birds of Paradise the wonder 
of the world ; exquisite tints not surpassed by 
the humming-birds themselves, and of almost 
infinite variety, from the richest velvety purple 
to the gorgeous metallic greens, blues, and yel- 
lows, changing with every motion, and glitter- 
ing in the sun like gems. But the marvelous 
freaks in the arrangement of the plumage are 
more specially interesting. So extraordinary 
a variety of forms, so unique and fantastic in 
. are without parallel in the animal 
world. Some species are adorned with long, 
drooping tufts of plum t as air. as the 

Red Bird of Paradise, and others bear strange- 



256 ECCENTRICITY IN FEATHERS. 

, shaped, movable shields ; part of the family- 
wear ruffs, and others display fans on shoulders 
or breast : a few sport extravagant length of 
tail, and one or two show bright-hued wattles ; 
one species is bare-headed, and — other vaga- 
ries being exhausted — two have curls. The 
greater number have an unusual development 
of two or more feathers into long, wire-like ob- 
jects, with a patch of web at the ends. In one 
species these wires are formed into two perfect 
circles beyond the end of the tail ; in another 
they cross each other in a graceful double curve, 
and in a third stand straight and stiff from the 
end of the feathers. The Sexpennis, or Golden 
Bird of Paradise, has on the head six of these 
shafts, which it erects at pleasure, produc- 
ing a singular appearance ; and the Standard 
Wing has two on each wing, equally effec- 
tive. Perhaps the most peculiar fact about 
the family is the power each bird possesses 
to change its form by means of these eccen- 
tric ornaments. All are erectile and movable 
in several ways, and a bird that is at one mo- 
ment like our common crow in shape, may 
in the next show a dazzling array of waving 
plumes or vibrating fans, and be utterly un- 
recognizable for the same creature. It is evi- 
dent to all bird students that feathers are as 
surely an " index of the mind " as are tails 



A PAPUAN HOUSE. 257 

in cat and dog, and the manners and expres- 
sion of this family would be a study of ab- 
sorbing interest. 

Not to mention the birds already familiar 
in books, there are a few interesting pecu- 
liarities of some of the late discoveries, and 
the possible varieties are by no means ex- 
hausted, so that each new traveler who pene- 
trates into their chosen home will doubtless 
have opportunity to see his own name Latin- 
ized into dignity and bestowed upon some bril- 
liant and hitherto unknown bird, having a new 
disposition of plumage, or a color more beau- 
tiful — if conceivable — than any before. One 
of the most attractive of the recent additions 
to the list was made by Signor D'Albertis, 
and named for him Drepanoris Albertisi. In 
a letter to a Sydney newspaper he tells the 
story of the discovery, which occurred while he 
was living in a Papuan mansion built upon 
the trunks of trees, and reached by means of 
a long ladder. From this unique residence 
he made excursions into the mountains, and, 
among other things, had the good fortune to 
see two curious episodes in the life of the Six- 
shaftod Bird of Paradise. He found this bird 
— which is not new to science — to be a noisy 
and solitary fellow, roaming the thick woods 
alone, dining upon figs and other fruits, and 



258 DUSTING ITSELF. 

indulging in the strange habit of " dusting " 
itself like a city sparrow. Happily he saw the 
whole operation. Selecting a suitable spot, the 
beautiful bird first cleared awaythe grass and 
leaves, and while the eager observer was won- 
dering what all this preparation portended, sud- 
denly flung itself to the ground, and rolled its 
rich plumage in the dust, fluttered the wings, 
elevated and depressed the six plumes on its 
head, and otherwise appeared to enjoy itself 
extremely. At another time the traveler wit- 
nessed a second uncommon scene in the deep 
interior of the forest. A bird of the same 
species alighted upon the ground, and after 
peering in every direction, either to make 
sure of being unobserved, or to discover an 
enemy or a friend, began a most singular 
performance, waving the six long plumes of 
the head, raising and lowering a small tuft of 
silvery white feathers over its beak, elevating 
a glittering crest on its neck, and spreading 
and drawing back the long feathers on its sides, 
every movement entirely changing its apparent 
shape. In a short time it began to jump from 
side to side and to assume an attitude of war, 
and all the time it never ceased uttering an un- 
common note, as though calling for admiration 
or for a fight. 

Not long after this curious exhibition fol- 



A NEW BIRD. 259 

lowed the observer's great prize, the Drepano- 
ris Albertisij which is so rare that even to 
many of the natives it was a surprise. At 
the first glance this bird does not appear to 
deserve a place in the remarkable family. It is 
about the size of our common crow, brown 
on the back, and lavender-gray below, with a 
curved bill more than three inches long. But 
closer study reveals several peculiarities : a bare 
space of bright blue around the eye, brilliant 
green on the throat, and a pair of feathery 
tufts standing up on the forehead like horns, 
with the crowning attraction of two pairs of 
fans, one behind the other on each side of the 
breast, capable of being folded smoothly against 
the body, or spread wide in two gorgeous 
semicircles altering the entire outlines of the 
creature. The first of the two admirable or- 
naments, when in repose, appears of the same 
violet-gray hue as the breast; but when raised 
the bases of the feathers are seen to be of a 
brilliant red, giving the effect of longitudinal 
stripes. The second pair is much longer, with 
deep margins of splendid purple instead of the 
stripes. When the possessor of all this splen- 
dor spreads its four fans, it also erects the long 
tail and opens it widely into a fifth fan, which 
produces an astonishing effect. 

Another of D'Albertis's contributions to the 



260 DANGER OF BEAUTY. 

mysterious family is among its most magnifi- 
cent members, the Paradisea Raggiana. A 
fine specimen of this genus, mounted in the 
position described by Wallace as the " dancing " 
attitude of P. Apoda^ the floating plumes ele- 
vated in a "golden glory" above the head, is 
the gem of the collection in the American 
Museum of New York. It resembles the Great 
Bird of Paradise, having long, airy plumes 
springing from under each wing. In general 
color golden brown, with yellow head and green 
throat. To this bird, as to others, beauty is a 
dangerous possession ; and, as if feeling aware 
of the fact, it lives in the tops of tall trees, in 
the deepest forest, among the most inaccessible 
ravines. But wary though it be, one charac- 
teristic lures it to destruction — curiosity. A 
European hunter in his unfamiliar dress is an 
irresistible attraction ; nearer and nearer it 
comes, hopping from branch to branch, pausing 
at every step to observe and study the intruder, 
with neck stretched and wings flapping, every 
moment uttering a peculiar cry, no doubt equiv- 
alent to " Come and look ! " for it brings others 
upon the scene, till the pretty sight is rudely 
ended by a shot and a death-wound. The cry 
of distress brings the friends nearer, only to 
fall victims in their turn to the same murder- 
ous gun. Our traveler once surprised a female 



A BARE-HEADED BIRD. 261 

of this species, and a droll proceeding followed. 
After flying several times around his head to 
see what sort of a creature he might be, she 
alighted on a vine, and turning heels over head, 
remained hanging head down, sharply scruti- 
nizing his appearance from this point of view 
till he — shot her. 

A bare-headed bird would not seem to pre- 
sent any attraction to the lover of beauty, 
though it might be of scientific interest ; but 
Nature, not having exhausted her resources 
upon the Birds of Paradise already mentioned, 
has even accomplished the feat of making a 
bald-headed beauty. The bare skin on the 
whole crown is of a brilliant blue color most 
oddly crossed by narrow rows of minute feath- 
ers, which irresistibly remind one of the sutures 
of the human skull. That color shall not be 
lacking, it bears, besides the blue of the head, 
black, straw color, bright red, and green ; and 
is further adorned with two very long central 
tail feathers, which reach far beyond the rest 
of the tail, and return, making a complete cir- 
cle ; a rare and lovely ornament. A good spec- 
imen is among the later arrivals at the Ameri- 
can Museum. 

The Manucodia are the curly Birds of Para- 

•. and our knowledge of one of the latest 

and most novel of them is owing not to the 



262 CURLY-HEADED BIRDS. 

indefatigable naturalists who have braved the 
dangers and discomfort of their wild island 
home, neither to the English Wallace, the 
Dutch Von Rosenburg, the Italian Beccari, nor 
to D'Albertis, nor Bruiju, nor De Myer, whose 
names will be forever associated with the splen- 
did family, but to a British officer of scientific 
tastes. 

M. Comrii is the largest, and has more curls 
than any other yet discovered, for they not 
only decorate the top of the head, but extend 
down the neck, and form ridges over the eyes. 
Even the tail partakes of the general curve, 
which makes it boat-shaped, and — most fan- 
tastic of all — the two middle feathers are 
nearly an inch shorter than their next neigh- 
bors, and turned over at the ends so as to dis- 
play the different color of their inner surface, 
and form what ladies call " revers" 

44 Such eccentricities are really not to be 
accounted for, as we cannot conceive they can 
be for any useful purpose " (!), gravely says 
science in the person of an English authority. 
This severely disapproved of plumage is blue 
with green lights on back and head, and black 
edged on every feather, with purple on the 
breast. 

Another species of the curly family, the 
Blue-green Paradise Bird (if. Ohalybea)^ has 



A CHANGEABLE BIRD. 263 

been known to us for a hundred years, but its 
habits are as much a mystery as its curls. It 
is exquisite in color, of the richest purple, 
glossy as satin, with neck of deep green, and 
all crinkled and curled over head and neck. 

The Long-tailed Bird of Paradise is the proud 
possessor of twenty-two names, from which it 
were hard to make a selection. It is one of 
the largest, being twenty-two inches in length, 
most of which, however, is tail, and is splendid 
in soft velvet-like black with hints of green and 
blue and purple. On each side it carries a fan 
of curved feathers, and the plumes of the flanks 
are of the lightest and most delicate texture. 
Words cannot describe the grace and elegance 
of this bird, and the perfect specimen in the 
museum above mentioned is worthy of a pil- 
grimage to see. 

A " changeable " Bird of Paradise is the one 
remaining eccentricity conceivable to complete 
the variety in coloring, and this is found in the 
IJjnmachus Ellioti, a bird so rare that at the 
time Gould published his first work the speci- 
men in his collection was unique, and natural- 

- in their excursions in the Papuan Islands 
have vainly tried to discover its home and learn 
its habits. The whole incomparable plumage 
is of rich changeable hues; in ordinary tight, 
when perfectly motionless, the bird appears of 



264 ECCENTRIC IN HABITS. 

& soft black, but on moving about the color 
varies from violet to maroon, from this to deep 
amethyst, and then to green, purple, and blue. 
A most extraordinary effect is produced when 
it faces the spectator with fan-plumes expanded, 
reaching so far above its head that they look 
like a pair of arms thrown up. 

The most interesting though not the most 
beautiful of the family is the Gardener bird, 
discovered a few years ago by the Italian natu- 
ralist Beccari. Here is a Bird of Paradise 
eccentric not in dress but in habits. His plu- 
mage is modest brown in several shades, so in- 
conspicuous that the partner of his joys can 
wear the same tints, which she does. The bird 
is the size of a turtle-dove. Let the doctor 
himself tell the story of the discovery while 
walking through the beautiful forest, so thick 
that scarcely a ray of sunshine penetrated the 
branches. He says : 

" I suddenly stood before the most remarka- 
ble specimen of the industry of an animal. It 
was a hut or bower close to a small meadow 
enameled with flowers. The whole was on a 
diminutive scale, and I immediately recognized 
the famous nests described by the hunters of 
Bruiju. After well observing the whole I gave 
strict orders to my hunters not to destroy the 
little building. That, however, was an unne- 



A CLEVER BUILDER. 265 

cessary caution, since the Papuans take great 
care never to disturb these nests or bowers, 
even if they are in their way. The birds had 
evidently enjoyed the greatest quiet until we 
happened, unfortunately for them, to come near 
them. I had now full employment in the pre- 
paration of my treasure. ... I took colors and 
brushes, and went to the spot, and made the 
sketch which I now publish. When I was there 
neither host nor hostess was at home. ... I 
could not ascertain whether this bower was oc- 
cupied by one pair or more, whether the male 
alone is the builder, or whether the wife as- 
sists. I believe, however, that the nest lasts 
several seasons." 

The pleasing description of the house and 
lawn, with its many decorations, has been 
widely copied. " Being mostly near the en- 
trance," says the grave scientist in conclusion, 
surprised into sentiment, " it would appear that 
the husband offers there the daily gift to the 
wife, removing the objects to the back of the 
hut as they fad<^ or wither." It is clever not 
only in building a house and lawn, but in imi- 
tating the songs and cries of other birds, and 
doing it so well, according to our author, that 
it brought " his hunters to despair." 

So few Birds of Paradise have entered the 
scientific world alive, and so little is known 



266 EXQUISITE TOILET. 

of their manners, that the meagre accounts we 
have possess unusual interest. So long ago as 
early in the century Mr. Bennett, in his visit 
to Macao, wrote a statement of the ways of a 
Great Bird of Paradise (P. Apoda) which had 
been at that time in confinement nine years. 
His description of the toilet of the most exqui- 
site of birds is delightful. 

" It washes itself regularly twice daily, and 
after having performed its ablutions, throws its 
delicate feathers up nearly over the head. . . . 
The beautiful subalar plumage is then thrown 
out and cleaned from any spot that may sully 
its purity by being passed gently through the 
bill, the short chocolate-colored wings are ex- 
tended to the utmost, and he keeps them in a 
steady flapping motion, at the same time rais- 
ing up the delicate long feathers over the back, 
which are spread in a chaste and elegant man- 
ner, floating like films in the ambient air. In 
this position the bird would remain for a short 
time, seemingly proud of its heavenly beauty. 
I never yet beheld a soil on its feathers. After 
expanding the wings it would bring them to- 
gether so as to conceal the head, then bending 
gracefully it would inspect the state of its 
plumage underneath. ... It then picks and 
cleans its plumage in every part within reach, 
and throwing out the elegant and delicate tuft 






THE DANCE. 267 

of feathers underneath, they are cleaned in 
succession, if required, by throwing them abroad, 
elevating and passing them in succession through 
the bill. Then turning its back to the specta- 
tors, the actions above mentioned are repeated, 
. . . and throwing its feathers up with much 
grace, appears as proud as a lady dressed in her 
full ball dress'' (!). After further account of 
its taking grasshoppers from visitors, he con- 
cludes : " Should any of the insects fall to the 
floor of his cage he will not descend to them, 
appearing to be fearful that in so doing he 
should soil his delicate plumage. " 

Almost equally charming is Mr. Bennett's 
observation of one that Wallace carried alive to 
London, which lived two years there and be- 
came exceedingly tame. It is this species whose 
dancing parties Wallace thus describes: — 

" On one of these trees a dozen or twenty 
full-plumaged male birds assemble, raise their 
wings vertically over the back, stretch out their 
necks, and raise and expand their exquisite long 
plumes till they form two magnificent golden 
fans, which are kept in continual vibration. 
\) -tween whiles they fly across from branch to 
branch in great excitement, so that the whole 

« is filled with waving plumes in every vari- 
ety of attitude and motion. In the position 
above mentioned the whole bird is overshad- 



268 DESERVES ITS NAME. 

owed by his plumage, the crouching body, yel- 
low head, and emerald green throat form but 
the foundation and. setting to the golden glory 
which waves above. Seen in this attitude the 
Bird of Paradise really deserves its name, and 
must be ranked as one of the most beautiful 
and most wonderful of living things." 

In truth, it is so transcendently beautiful that 
hunters have been astonished into forgetfulness 
of their guns, and no triumph was ever greater, 
for to recognize an attractive creature and lift 
the gun to take its life seems to be a single 
operation of many who carry the murderous 
weapon. 

The Twelve-wired, one of the better known 
varieties of the Birds of Paradise, is usually fig- 
ured, and probably always mounted, with its 
exquisite plumes closely folded against its sides, 
but the French naturalist and traveler Le Vail- 
lant, in his large work published early in the 
century, gives a representation of it under the 
name of Le Nebuleux, with feathers expanded 
to the uttermost, a truly magnificent display. 
All his figures, though sometimes incorrect, 
owing to the scanty knowledge of the time, have 
a great deal of life. Each bird is presented 
both in repose, with plumage all folded smooth- 
ly back, and in excitement, with every fan and 
ruff and erectile ornament fully spread. 



A SUGGESTION. 269 

This peerless family takes kindly to captiv- 
ity, as has been amply proved by their enduring 
the voyage and living two years in the unfavor- 
able climate of England, as well as by spend- 
ing at least nine years in an aviary in China, 
and there is no reason why we in America 
should not have opportunity to admire them 
and study their habits from life. Would that 
some of our young explorers could be induced 
to turn from the ice-fields of the Poles, and the 
death-swamps of the Tropics, to seek these in- 
imitable birds in the mountains and woods of 
the Papuan Islands — not to shoot for our mu- 
seum shelves, but to study their manners and 
customs, and above all to introduce them into 
American aviaries, that a new and absorbing 
chapter might be added to our Natural Histo- 
ries, and the Bird of Paradise cease to be the 
Bird of Mystery. 



INDEX. 



African Parrot and Mocking-Bird, 
90. 

Baltimore Oriole. 

pursue a blackbird, 4. 

baby ways, 0. 

attacked by robin, 10. 

an unnatural baby. 11. 

one at a time, 11. 

tbe father as drudge, 12. 

visited bv the Cardinal, 215. 
Bird of Paradise. 2 

where found. _ 

mythical stories of, 253. 

dancing parties. S 

color- . 

arrangement of plumage, 255. 

Red Bird of, 255. 

Golden, 256. 

Standard-wing, 256. 

change of form, 256. 

feathers an index of the mind, 

interesting new discoveries, 257. 
BJgnor d'Albertis, 257. 

dusting itself, 2 

curious scene, 253. 

a rare bir«l. 

description of, 2 

another m 

specimen in N. Y. Museum, 260. 

description of P. 

danger of beaut;. 

a tare-headed bird, _ 

M. < 
M. 

Lonp- 

_ .3. 

description <-.f i 

aclei 

manners of P. Auoda, 266. 



toilet. 266. 

dancing parties, 267. 

twelve-wired, 268. 

Le Vaillant's work, 268. 
Birds. 

home affairs of, 3. 

dangers in nest, 5. 

hard work of, 15. 

training the young, 15. 

study of, 16. 

cruel pursuit of, 239. 

at twilight, 247. 
Bluebird. W. 

attitude and manners, 97. 

attitude and manners, female, 
98. 

defending her spouse, 98. 

standing guard, 98. 

defending the young, 99. 

after the mocking-bird, 99. 

unsafe nest, 99. 

tragedy in the family, 100. 

consoling his mate, 100. 

an affectionate pair, 101. 

motherly affection, 102. 

arrangements for sleep, 102. 

queer little talk with me, 103. 

talk together. 104-106. 

staring at nothing, 104. 

his mate disapproves, 106. 

difference in intelligence, 107. 

demanding meal worms, 107. 

expressing themselves, 1"7. 
learning by experience, 108. 

fond of worms, b»<. 

trirk on a scarlet tanager, 108. 

battling, 109. 

bewitching dance, i<» ( .>. 

sunning himself, loo. 
hanng out. 1 10. 

growing belligerent, 110. 
oovftalup, ll<>. 
he preeeati i irora, 110. 
refDjing t<> ihare, ill. 

feeding through wires. 112. 



272 



INDEX. 



change in the song, 112. 
set free, 112. 

attacked by sparrows, 112. 
baby ways, 13. 
bringing food to young, 47. 
Blue Jay, 175. 

driving corks, 175. 

hammering, 175. 

destructiveness, 176. 

holes in the matting, 176. 

ornamenting books, 177. 

pounding upward, 177. 

hiding things, 177. 

his regular business, 178. 

clearing up the room, 178. 

setting off matches, 179. 

odd hiding-places, 179. 

in my hair, 180. 

intelligent interest, 180. 

likes and dislikes, 180-191. 

showing fight, 181. 

war upon the baby, 181. 

expression of affection, 181. 

curiosity, 182. 

jumping, 183. 

queer way of alighting, 183. 

bird of opinions, 183. 

scolding the rain, 184. 

strange noises, 184. 

song, 184. 

stamping his feet, 184. 

in anger, 184. 

peaceful among the birds, 185. 

timid, 185. 

afraid of falling, 185. 

a jay-baby cry, 185. 

fond of music, 186. 

attended to business, 187. 

talking to me, 187. 

his demon of work, 187. 

in his vindication, 187. 

knew what he wanted, 191. 

human society, 191. 

tokens of affection, 192. 

love, 193. 

ice-cream and cake, 193. 

hiding his candy, 193. 

next in favor, 193. 

difference in treatment, 193. 

curious dance, 194. 

missed his frolics, 194. 

calling his playmate, 194. 

treatment of a young lady, 195. 

treatment of a youth, 195. 

treatment of the head of the 

household, 195. 
treatment of a maid, 195. 
afraid of a trap, 195. 
a wise bird, 196. 
cutting a wire, 196. 



loosening a rubber band, 196. 

a troublesome pet, 196. 

on my desk, 196. 

a cure for hammering, 196. 

learning to get under the cover, 

197. 
prying into packages, 197. 
the waste basket, 198. 
after the photographs, 198. 
on the door, 198. 
flying out, 198. 
the open window, 199. 
learning to outwit him, 199. 
the other birds no society, 199. 
surprising his neighbors, 199. 
the room in a panic, 200. 
excitement over a grasshopper, 

200. 
the oriole takes a hand, 200. 
afraid of a tree, 200. 
hiding the needles, 202. 
bathing, 202. 
beauty of plumage, 202. 
Brazilian Cardinal, 232. 

Cardinal Grosbeak, or Virginia C, 
207. 
colors, 207. 

her first admirer, 208. 
his first call, 208. 
a mind of her own, 209. 
his mistake, 209. 
reproaching her, 209. 
violent wooing, 210. 
the obnoxious door, 210. 
the window, 210. 
exploring the room, 211. 
calling on the robin, 211-214. 
war declared upon her, 211 
the window problem, 212. 
lord-and-master, 212. 
curious performance, 212. 
hostilities, 213. 
jealousy, 214. 
the looking-glass, 214. 
calling on the tanager, 214. 
the bath, 214. 
calling on the orioles, 215. 
beginning to sing, 215. 
a queer game, 215. 
war again, 216. 
death of the persecutor, 216. 
Virginia relieved, 216. 
expression of crest, 216. 
a week's peace, 217. 
arrival of a stranger, 217. 
Virginia not pleased, 217. 
the second suitor goes, 218. 
left alone, 218. 
set free, 219. 



INDEX. 



273 



the successful wooer, 219. 
difficulty, studies under, 25, 26, 
27, 29, 30. 

Golden - winged Woodpecker, or 
Flicker. 115. 

in search of ■ nest, 115. 

heavy night, 116. 

out of a bird store, 117. 

excessively wild. 117. 

getting acquainted. 117. 

peeping out. US. 

expressing emotion, 118. 

in despair, 11$. 

holes in the wall, 118. 

learning to eat, 118. 

peculiar attitudes, 119. 

sleeping, 119. 

restlessness, 119. 

taking nans, 120. 

a heavy sleeper, 120. 

dreaming, 120. 

hanging himself, 121. 

expression of sentiments, 121. 

the door opened, 121. 

running about the floor, 121. 

intelligence. 121. 

exploring the room, 121. 

investigating the nails. 122. 

visiting his neighbors, 122. 

up the ladder, 122. 

teasing the goldfinch, 123. 

down the ladder, 123. 

stepping down backward, 123. 

going home, 124. 

asking to be let out, 124. 

suddenly familiar, 124. 

childlike disposition, 124. 

a silent bird, 124. 

a strange song, 125. 

an extraordinary display, 125. 

the baby of the family, 126. 

position of rest, 127. 

flicker talk. 
Goldfinch, 72, 152, 157. 

Mockin^r-Bird. 

baby ways, 13. 
study of". 

way of singing, 25-44. 
fables about, 30-31. 

domestic relations, 36. 
home in a pine grove, 37. 
wooing, 38. 
dance, 39. 
love or war 7 41. 
house hunting. 41. 
building in a storm, 42. 
on the winding stairs. 43. 



belligerent, 44. 

a call on his spouse, 45. 

frolic on the grass, 45. 

nest in the cedar. 45. 

the youngsters out, 40. 

feeding the babies, 40. 

the baby cry, 47. 

parental anxiety, 48, 50, 55. 

madam remonstrates, 48. 

telling the news, 49. 

out of the nest, 50. 

looks and manners of the in- 
fant, 50, 51, 53. 

a lively youngster, 52. 

an ignominious flop, 53. 

baby number two, 53. 

refuses to move on, 53. 

thieves — black and white, 54. 

behavior of a young singer, 54. 

had his own way, 55. 

number three neglected, 55. 

the cry-baby, 56. 

peculiar hops, 56. 

a curious performance, 57. 

the nest, 57. 

movements, 58, 59. 

lifting the wings, 60. 

disposition, 60. 

quarrel, 61. 

attack on a crow, 61. 

song, 62, 63. 

as imitator, 63. 
Mocking-Bird in the house. 

mocking, 67. 

intelligence, 67. 

taking notes, 68. 

choice of colors, 68. 

enjoyment of liberty, 69. 

reason, 69. 

warmed by a lamp, 69. 

quiet observation, 70. 

submitting to imposition, 70. 

out of the cage, 70. 

studying surroundings, 71. 

the pin-cushion, 71. 

looking-glass, 71. 

settling his position, 72. 

the English goldfinch, 72. 

driven away from the bath, 73. 

the feathers flew, 74. 

scene between goldfinch and, 
74. 

Insulted by a thrush, 75. 

dispute over the bath. 7~». 

worrying the Mcxicni. 77. 

with the wood thrush, 78. 

quarrel over the apple 

a war dan< • 

settling the thrush, 80. 

end of the apple contest, 81. 



274 



INDEX. 



decides to remove, 81. 
teasing the thrush, 83. 
graceful attack, 83. 
a change of tactics, 84. 
a determined enemy, 85. 
gracefulness, 85. 
bewitching ways, 86. 
expression of feathers, 86. 
the looking-glass, 87. 
manner of dressing, 89. 
lifting the wings, 89. 
steel pen, 89. 
attack on the parrot, 90. 
never startled, 91. 
caught under a shawl, 91. 
mad frolics, 92. 
fury of play, 92. 
reducing the finch to silence, 93. 
mischief, not malice, 93. 
Mexican thrush, 77, 83. 

Nonpareil, 28. 
Nuthatch baby ways, 12. 
visited by orioles, 138. 

Orchard Orioles, 131. 

characteristics, 131, 132. 
persistent singers, 131. 
making themselves conspicuous, 

132. 
annoying ways, 132. 
shouting the news, 133. 
trouble in the family, 133. 
plumage, 133, 134. 
two suitors to one maid, 134. 
he will have his way, 134. 
she flew for her life, 134. 
voice of female, 135. 
beauty of female, 135. 
restless manners, 135. 
a war dance, 136. 
an anti-climax, 137. 
a meek damsel, 137. 
inquisitive, 138. 
visiting the mocking - bird's 

nest, 138. 
visiting nuthatches, 138. 
interested in me, 139. 
the crisis, 139. 
nesting time begun, 139. 
matters settled, 140. 
the honeymoon, 140. 
submitting to the inevitable, 

140. 
nest building, 140. 
precipitate wooing, 141. 
grumbling husbands, 141. 
a feathered thief, 142. 
the end was not yet, 142. 
with a grasshopper, 201. 



Pewee, baby ways, 15. 

learning to hover, 16. 
Plover, 24. 
Purple Crow Blackbird. 

in trouble, 4. 

launching the infants, 5. 

blackbird babies, 7. 

Rose-breasted Grosbeak, 239. 

dress ; characters, 239. 

manner of eating, 240. 

about the room, 240. 

a creature of habit, 240. 

intelligence, 241. 

had his own opinion, 241. 

change of place, 242. 

contented and happy, 242. 

a silent bird, 243. 

queer noises, 243. 

disturbed by an owl, 243. 

song, 244-249. 

the looking-glass, 244. 

posturing, 245. 

curious movements, 246. 

bathing, 246. 

color, 247. 

night, 248. 

never playful, 249. 
Robin baby ways, 14, 47. 
Robin called in by Cardinal, 211-214. 

Scarlet Tanager and English Gold- 
finch, 224. 
dress and manners, 224. 
parties to the friendship, 224. 
dislike to confinement, 224. 
coming out, 225. 
the window glass, 226. 
the finch flies at him, 226. 
giving up the world, 227. 
dislike to be looked at, 227. 
first sign of friendship, 228. 
the smallest bird, 228. 
progress of the friendship, 228. 
the tanager's boundary, 229. 
becoming protector, 229. 
beginning to talk, 229. 
perching outside, 230. 
around the room, 231. 
in a strange cage, 231. 
on the floor, 231. . 
driving the Brazilian, 232. 
the robin interferes, 232. 
the finch goes for him, 233. 
a new roof, 233. 
the mischievous robin, 234. 
approach of spring, 234. 
offensive operations, 235. 
anxious to go, 235. 
belligerent, 235. 



INDEX. 



275 



set free, 236. 
the deserted lover, 23t>. 
called on by cardinal, 214. 
Snowy He roil, Jo. 

Tern, 24. 

Thrasher, or Brown Thrush, 147. 

restlessness, 147. 

use of feet. 14^. 

erratic movements, 149. 

way of approach, 140. 

sensational manners, 150. 

bathing, 150. 

watering around the bath, 150. 

excitement of the bath, 151. 

niischievousness, 162. 

teasing the finch, 152. 

tearing paper, 152. 

with a newspaper, 153. 

the magazines, 153. 

hamnieriner, 153. 

jumping, 153. 

intelligence, 154. 

talking back, 154. 

expression of wings, 154. 

littleness of body, 155. 

the song. 166. 

in the twilight, 156, 247. 

strange movements, 156. 



watching others, 157. 

in the spring, 157. 
Thrushes. 

gray-cheeked, 161. 

song of, 162. 

Wilson's, 162. 

wonderful song, 102. 

whisper songs, 1G2. 

difference in character, 163. 

bewitching dance, 163. 

use of feet, 104. 

excitement, 165. 

a different dance, 165. 

bathing, 165, 166. 

the bird in the glass, 16G. 

alighting places, 167. 

enjoying a swing, 167. 

a :>uug retreat, 167. 

tearing papers, 168. 

lonely disposition, 1G9. 

belligerent, 169. 

set free, 169. 

surprise of freedom, 170. 

a call from a neighbor, 170. 

farewell to the Gray-cheeked, 
171. 
Thrush baby ways, 8, 78, 80, 85. 

Yellow-throated baby ways, 8. 



OUT-DOOR BOOKS 

Selected from the Publications of 

Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 

4 Park St. y Boston : 11 East 17th St, New York: 



Adirondack Stories. By P. Deming. 18iik>, 
75 cents. 

A Week on the Concord and Merrimack 

Rivers. By Henry D. Thoreau. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50. 

Birds and Poets, with Other Papers. By John 
Burroughs. 16mo, $1.50. 

Contents: Birds and Poets; April; Touches of Nature; 
A Bird Medley ; Spring Poems; Our Rural Divinity ; Emer- 
son ; The Flight of the Eagle (Walt Whitman) ; Before Gen- 
ius ; Before Beauty. 

Bird- Ways. By Olive Thorne Miller. 16mo, 

SI. 25. 

Contents : The Bird of the Morning, — the American 
Robin ; The Bird of Solitude, and A Gentle Spirit, — the 

"1 Thrush ; A Winter Bird-Study, — the European Song 
Thrush : In the Cat-Bird's Nook ; Tricks and Manners of a 

Bird; The Bird of Society, — the Redwing Blackbird 
Transient Visitors in the Bird-Room ; A Ruffian in Feath 
prs — the Boose Sparrow j A Tragedy in the Maple Tree 
Trouble in the Honeysuckles ; The Bird of the Street 
" These are your Brothers." 

Cape Cod. By IIkxry D. Thoreau. 12mo, gilt 

top, SI. 50. 

; 9 : The Shipwreck ; Stage-Coach Views ; The 
Plain- of Nanset; The Beach; The Well fleet Oysterman ; 
The Beach again; Across the Cape; The Highland Light; 
L the I toeert ; Prorincetown. 

Country By-Ways. By Sarah Orne Jewett. 

18mo, SI 



Drift-Weed. Poems. By Celia Thaxter. Small 

4to, full gilt, $1.50. 

None of the poets of to-day have made so deep and sympa- 
thetic a study of the shifting aspects of the sea as has Mrs. 
Thaxter, and none of them have interpreted its meanings and 
analogies with half her grace and subtlety. — Boston Journal. 

Early Spring in Massachusetts. Selections 
from the Journals of Henry D. Thoreau. 12mo, gilt top, 
$1.50. 

Excursions in Field and Forest. By Henry 

D. Thoreau. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50. 

Contents : Biographical Sketch, by R. W. Emerson ; Nat- 
ural History of Massachusetts ; A Walk to Wachusett ; The 
Landlord ; A Winter Walk ; The Succession of Forest Trees ; 
Walking ; Autumnal Tints ; Wild Apples ; Night and Moon- 
light. 

Fresh Fields. By John Burroughs. 16mo, $1.50. 

Contents : Nature in England ; English Woods — A Con- 
trast ; In Carlyle's Country ; A Hunt for the Nightingale ; 
English and American Song Birds; Impressions of some Eng- 
lish Birds ; In Wordsworth's Country ; A Glimpse of English 
Wildflowers; British Fertility; A Sunday in Cheyne Row; 
At Sea. 

In the Wilderness. Adirondack Essays. By 
Charles Dudley Warner. New edition, enlarged. "Lit- 
tle Classic " style. 18mo, 75 cents. l6mo, 50 cents. 
A most charming book. — Portland Press. 

Locusts and Wild Honey. By John Bur- 
roughs. 16mo, $1.50. 
Contents : The Pastoral Bees ; Sharp Eyes ; Is it going to 

rain ? Speckled Trout ; Birds and Birds ; A Bed of Boughs ; 

Birds' -Nesting ; The Halcyon in Canada. 

My Garden Acquaintance and a Moosehead 
Journal. By James Bussell Lowell. Illustrated. 32mo, 
75 cents. School Edition, 40 cents. 

My Summer in a Garden. By Charles Dud- 
ley Warner. 16mo, $1.00. 
You cannot open his book without lighting on something 

fresh and fragrant. — New York Tribune. 






Nature. u Little Classics," Vol. XIV. 18mo, $1.00. 

Content? : A-Hnnting of the Doer, by Charles Dudley 
Warner; Dogs, by P. G. Hamerton; In the Hemlocks, by John 
Burroughs; A Winter Walk, by II. D. T ho re an ; Buds and 
Bird Voices, by N. Hawthorne; The Fens, by (\ Kingaley J 
Ascent of the Bfatterhorn, by Edward Whymper; Ascent of 
Mount Tyndall, by Clarence King; The Firmament, by John 
Buskin. 

Nature, together with Love, Friendship. Do- 
mestic Life, Success, Greatness, and Immortality. By 
R. W. Emerson. 32mo, 75 cents ; School Edition, 40 cents. 

Pepacton. By John Burroughs. IGiho, $1.50. 

Contents: Pepacton; A Summer Voyage; Springs; An 
Idyl of the Honey-Bee ; Nature and the Poets ; Notes by the 
Way; Foot-Paths ; A Bunch of Herbs; Winter Pictures; A 
Camp in Maine ; A Spring Relish. 

Poems. By R. W. Emerson. With Portrait. 

Riverside Edition. 12mo, gilt top, $1.75. 

This volume contains nearly all the pieces included in the 
former editions of "Poems" and " May-Day," beside other 
poems not hitherto published. The collection includes a very 
large number of poems devoted to nature and natural scenery. 

Poems. By Cell* Thaxter. Small 4to, full gilt, 

51.50. 

They are unique in many respects. Our bleak and rocky 
New England sea-coast, all the wonders of atmospherical and 
sea-change, have, I think, never before been so musically or 
tenderly sung about. — John G. Whittier. 

Poetic Interpretation of Nature. By Principal 
J. C. Shairp. 16mo, gilt top, $1.25. 

Full of learning and genuine appreciation of the poetry of 
Nature. — Portland Press. 

Seaside Studies in Natural History. By Alfx- 
ajto \z and Elizabeth C. Aoassiz. Illustrated. 

The scene of these Mai ichnsettfl Bay. 

Summer. n> from the Journals of H. D. 

ThOKBAU. With a Map of CODCOld. 12mO f L'ilt top, SI. 50. 



He was the one great observer of external nature whom 
America has yet produced, a most subtle portrayer of his own 
personal thoughts and life, a tribune of the people, a man who 
joined the strongest powers of thought with an absolute love 
of liberty and a perfect fearlessness of mind. — The Indepen* 
dent (New York). 

The Gypsies. By Charles G. Leland. With 
Sketches of the English, Welsh, Russian, and Austrian 
Romany ; and papers on the Gypsy Language. Crown 8vo, 
$2.00. 

We have no hesitation in saying that this is the most de- 
lightful Gypsy book with which we are acquainted. — The Spec- 
tator (London). 

The Maine Woods. By Henry D. Thoreau. 

12mo, gilt top, $1.50. 

Wake-Robin. By John Burroughs. Revised 
and enlarged edition, illustrated. 16mo, $1.50. 

Contents : The Return of the Birds ; In the Hemlocks ; 
Adirondac ; Birds'-Nests ; Spring at the Capital ; Birch Brow^ 
sings ; The Bluebird ; The Invitation. 

Walden ; or, Life in the Woods. By Henry 
D. Thoreau. 12mo, gilt top, $1.50. 

Birds in the Bush. By Bradford Torrey. 16mo. 

Contents : On Boston Common ; Bird-Songs ; Character 
in Feathers ; In the White Mountains ; Phillida and Coridon ; 
Scraping Acquaintance ; Minor Songsters ; Winter Birds about 
Boston ; A Bird-Lover's April ; An Owl's Head Holiday ; A 
Month's Music. 

Winter Sunshine. By John Burroughs. New 

edition, revised and enlarged, with frontispiece illustration. 

16mo, $1.50. 

The minuteness of his observation, the keenness of his per^ 
ception, give him a real originality, and his sketches have a 
delightful oddity, vivacitv, and freshness. — The Nation (New 
York). * 

*** For sale by all Booksellers. Sent by mail, post-paid, on 
receipt of price by the Publishers, 

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., Boston, Mass. 







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